Big Human on Campus: After School
by Black Dragon6
Summary: An omake spin-off in the fashion of Full Metal Panic: Fumoffu! Rampant silliness and experimental side-stories that would gut the main story were I to insert them in a chapter.
1. Games are Life

Big Human on Campus  
After School Sessions  
by Black Dragon

Disclaimer: Cities & Cyclists totally belongs to me! Parody is protected speech, suckers! HA!

Session 1  
Games are Life

* * *

"All right, does everybody understand the basic rules?" Yukari asked as she sat down behind a large desk, a short stack of books next to her.

Sitting on the desk in front of her and almost entirely obscuring the young witch was a fold-out cardboard piece with a picture of a busy but serene city street on it.

Sitting around the desk and slowly filling out sheets of paper were Ranma, Tsukune, Moka, Kouma, and Kurumu.

"I think I have the basic idea, though it still seems strange to me," Tsukune mumbled as he dropped his pencil on the desk, "a roleplaying game where you act like a human and have to survive completely ordinary problems in an adult human's life? Doesn't that sound kind of boring?"

"Well, it would probably seem boring to a human," grumbled Kouma, idly chewing his pencil eraser into mush, "but it's new to us. Besides, some of this stuff could actually come in handy."

"Well, okay, fine, but you do know what this game is, right?" Tsukune asked. "I mean, 'Cities and Cyclists?' This is based on a roleplaying game where humans pretend to be powerful warriors that fight skeletons and goblins and stuff and hunt for treasure."

"If I wanted to kick around greenskins for pocket change, I'd join the handicraft club," Kouma said before scribbling on his character sheet, "we don't need to have pretend games for things you can easily do in real life."

"That's..." Tsukune sighed as he gave up the point, "okay, yeah. That's true. But it's not like these things are totally beyond our imagination, right?"

"Well, sure, but normally becoming a lawyer takes years of expensive schooling, not fifteen minutes with a source book. By the way, what are everybody's classes?"

"I chose a nurse!" Moka said brightly, looking like she was already enjoying herself greatly.

Kurumu grimaced. "Huh! Formidable! But you won't beat me! I'm a maid!"

"Beat you... at what?" Moka asked, clearly confused.

"In a contest of sex appeal, of course!" Kurumu said, pumping a fist into the air. "Also, you wouldn't BELIEVE how many skill points I get!"

"I'm sure any dust you encounter won't stand a chance," Yukari said, rolling her eyes, "Tsukune, how about you?"

"I chose an accountant," Tsukune said, holding up his character sheet.

"How like you to choose such a boring, mostly useless, and completely ordinary career," Kouma scoffed, incidentally annoying the author considerably.

"Oh, leave Tsukune alone! At least he chose a respectable profession!" Kurumu said hotly.

"Civil law is respectable!" the hellhound protested. "It's essentially stealing and humiliating people while explaining how you're completely justified in doing so! It's hard work!"

Tsukune, as usual, deigned to answer to the insults he had been subjected to, and turned toward Ranma, who was studying his source book with unusual intensity.

"So what are you, Ranma?" he asked, leaning over to glance at his roommate's sheet.

"Carpenter," Ranma said as he studied a table carefully, drawing one finger down a column.

"Oh, okay. And here I thought you'd choose something really unconventional, like-"

"A martial arts carpenter," Ranma mumbled, quickly writing down a note on his character sheet before returning to the book.

"... Like that, yes," Tsukune mumbled.

"Hey, you can't be a martial artist AND a carpenter!" Kouma protested, "you have to choose one!"

"Besides is 'martial artist' really a profession or useful trait in the human world?" Moka asked doubtfully.

"Of course it is!" Ranma replied to Moka, "you think I took up martial arts for the health benefits?"

"It might have worked out, if you didn't keep getting your ribs smashed in," Tsukune noted.

"As for how I'm using a martial arts carpenter, I'm using this," Ranma said proudly, holding up the book he was working with.

Everyone at the table could see that it was labeled "Nerima CnC Supplement: Bicycles of Death".

As the others looked perplexed by the title, Moka was suddenly startled by a voice emanating from her Rosario.

_'Hey, hey. Roll me up one of those.'_

The vampiress looked stunned. 'YOU want to play too?'

_'Why not? It's boring sitting alone in your head with nothing but your suppressed libido to keep me company,' _Evil Moka grumbled. As Moka's face flushed, she continued, _'by the by, some of the material in these little fantasies of yours are just WAY too advanced for someone of our sexual experience. You're setting yourself up for disappointment. Just FYI.'_

"Hey, Moka? Are you all right? You look all flushed," Kurumu said.

"Oh, uh... Would it be okay if Evil Moka had a character too?" Moka asked, feeling incredibly foolish. That feeling wasn't helped when everyone else in the room stared at her in askance.

"Wait, so... you'd run two characters?" Yukari asked, scratching her head. "Well, I don't see why not..."

"So one person would be controlled by the voice in your head?" Ranma asked as he put the finishing touches on his character sheet.

"She's not going to spend the entire game trying to kill Ranma's carpenter, is she?" Tsukune asked suspiciously.

"She says no, she just wants something to do," Moka explained.

Then she suddenly recoiled. "NO, I'm not going to borrow Ranma's source book!" Moka yelled at her Rosario as the others sweatdropped.

Yukari clapped her hands to regain everyone's attention. "Okay, that's fine. While Moka's making a second character, the rest of you should choose alignments."

"What's that, exactly?" Kurumu asked, frowning at her character sheet.

"Well, in human society, all people are assumed to believe in a basic set of principles that establish 'society' as they know it. This includes belief in law and order, certain universal rights, and a natural inclination to favor the betterment and advancement of civilization as a whole. Beyond these 'core', beliefs, any variations in beliefs between individuals are accounted for by your political alignment," Yukari explained at length.

"So... you're asking for us to choose a political stance?" Tsukune said, looking somewhat ill, for some reason.

"Yes, that's basically it."

"Neutral," Tsukune said immediately.

"Neutral," Kurumu echoed.

"Neutral," Moka agreed, "and neutral again."

Kouma scratched his chin. "I think I'll go ultra-conservative, actually."

Tsukune groaned. "Why?"

"Well, I am from Hell. I should stick to what I know about ethics and philosophy," the hellhound reasoned.

Ranma nodded thoughtfully. "I think I'll be a radical liberal."

"Because Kouma is the opposite?" Kurumu asked.

"No, because my character has an intelligence score of 7," Ranma admitted, "does that mean I believe in crazy conspiracy theories or anything?"

"We'll roll for that once we begin," Yukari confided. "Moka, are you done with your evil character?"

"She's not an evil character... necessarily," Moka protested weakly, "she's a corporate manager for an IT firm."

Kouma clicked his tongue as he leaned back. "Too easy. Don't even want to waste my breath..."

"All right, is everyone finished?" Yukari asked, dumping several dice out of a small cloth bag. "Are we ready to start a perfectly normal day in the human world, full of petty social conflicts and minor inconveniences?"

"Yeah! Let's start!" Kurumu cheered.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Kouma said.

"All set," Ranma gave a thumbs-up.

"We're ready," Moka offered, though she looked reluctant about it as her eyes glanced back and forth between her two character sheets.

"Then let's go," Tsukune offered, picking up a handful of dice.

"It's Saturday morning. Those of you that have professions with ordinary working hours have the day off. By coincidence, you all emerge from your rooms more-or-less simultaneously from the house you all rent rooms in," Yukari began, setting the stage.

"Wait, we all live together? Why does my lawyer have to be housemates with a hippie carpenter? Don't I make way more than the rest of them?" Kouma asked.

"You're only level one, Kouma. That puts you in the same income bracket with the rest of us," Tsukune explained.

Ranma stuck out his tongue. "Ha! I make as much building useful things as you do ruining people's lives!"

"That's totally unrealistic!" the hellhound complained.

"Oh, get over it! Now hush, I've barely started," Yukari groused, "as is normal first thing in the morning, you make your way to the shared kitchen for breakfast, where you find the first obstacle of the day: the fridge is completely barren!"

Moka winced, and her expression darkened as she spoke. "My, uh, manager suggests that we eat the hippie carpenter."

Tsukune chuckled weakly. "Ah, Moka, you're not a vampire in this game."

"Evil Moka is aware of that, yes," Moka deadpanned.

Kurumu rolled her eyes. "Then that makes it cannibalism, Moka. Humans don't do that."

Kouma was quick to interject, "Actually, my lawyer cites precedence in the case of the Donner Party, in which humans devoured each other in order to survive an emergency situation."

"This isn't an emergency, it's breakfast," Tsukune protested as Ranma perused his character sheet silently.

"These things are all relative. I'm sure I can swing it in court," Kouma said, almost giddy. "My lawyer reaches for a kitchen knife."

"My carpenter draws his chainsaw," Ranma said, leaning back in his seat.

Silence reigned around the table.

"Ranma... you're a carpenter, not a lumberjack or gardener class. Why would you have a chainsaw?" Tsukune asked.

"Because I took the right feats," Ranma said smugly, holding up his character sheet for all to see, "and I have the required proficiency in Power Tools, so your lawyer's free to try his luck, Eyebrows."

"And you just carry a chainsaw around with you?" Moka asked incredulously.

"It seems like a good idea when you room with people who'd rather kill and eat you than go to the supermarket," Ranma said with an eyebrow raised, "my carpenter revs up the chainsaw."

"All right, knock it off," Tsukune said, rubbing his head with his hand, "this isn't that hard a problem. GM, the fridge is absolutely bare?"

"Nothing but a milk stain and a slightly bloated cockroach," Yukari affirmed.

"Ooh! I take the roach!" Kurumu said eagerly.

"Why?"

"I think they're cute! Not as much as spiders, but still..."

"Well, unless your maid knows a recipe for cockroach, we still have to get some food," Tsukune said, "my accountant steps out the front door and searches for transportation."

Yukari nodded. "You find a large SUV. It belongs to Kouma, and he's still making payments on it, as a retroactive explanation of your income disparity."

"Great. We'll just drive to the supermarket and get some food," Tsukune said, feeling a little bit silly in having to lead the other players in accomplishing something so mundane, "so who's driving?"

Kurumu shook her head. "I spent all my points and feats maxing out my sex appeal."

Moka flushed. "Actually, my nurse is very environmentally conscious, so she takes a bicycle to work... And apparently my manager thought that she'd have her own limousine and driver when she chose her class."

Ranma shrugged. "I'm no help. I set up my stats so I could run everywhere on the rooftops."

Kouma scratched his head. "Me neither. I had to use my feats to expand my legal expertise."

Ranma blinked. "What? But it's your car!"

"You bought a car without even being able to drive it?" Kurumu asked, rolling her eyes, "you moron."

"That was decided for me! I didn't actually do that!" Kouma protested.

"So NONE of you have the driver's license feat?" Yukari deadpanned.

"I didn't think it would come up!" Ranma said sheepishly. "I mean, I've never needed to drive in the human world!"

"Yes, well, not all species can just leap on top of buildings," Kurumu pointed out.

"It's not a matter of species!" Ranma said hotly, "I'm a human! Any human can do it with some practice!"

All eyes turned to Tsukune, who did his best not to make eye contact. "Yes, well, none of us have had the practice to do that other than you. GM, is there a bus stop nearby?"

"YES. Now for the love of the gods, get to the damn store," Yukari said impatiently.

Moka massaged her forehead as she mumbled, "While we're waiting, my manager inconspicuously moves directly behind Ranma... I mean, behind the hippie carpenter. Also, Evil Moka wants to prepare an action."

Tsukune groaned as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Moka..."

"You know, it's not like his character's likely to die from anything a middle manager can do to him," Kouma pointed out, "I mean, we HAVE a nurse in the party."

"Kouma, that is not the point," Tsukune groused.

"My carpenter draws his chainsaw..."

* * *

"You arrive at the supermarket. FINALLY. As the bus shakes and sputters to the stop, one of its axles snaps in two and a tire promptly falls out of the wheel well and rolls off into the street," Yukari said as she looked over a page of notes written on a legal pad.

"My accountant apologizes profusely to the driver for the commotion," Tsukune said, rolling a D20, "and for my diplomacy roll I get... Huh. Twenty."

"Oh, a critical!" Yukari said. "Okay, then he won't report you to the authorities or make you pay for the bus."

Kouma snorted. "Us pay for it? I could have the entire company buried for having inadequate riot control mechanisms installed! These vehicles are CLEARLY a psychological threat to their occupants."

"Speaking of which, my carpenter puts away his chainsaw," Ranma noted, raising his hand.

"My nurse finishes tending to the survivors," Moka said, rolling a D20 herself, "uhm... 18, after bonuses... Sigh And my manager says she wants to search the bodies of the fallen for funds and... matches? Wait, why would you need matches?"

"Moka, we really don't have time for that," Tsukune said firmly. "Also, that's illegal. Right, Kouma?"

"Depends on how much of a cut I get," the hellhound admitted, "I can make a lot of things legal for the right price and with a few lucky dice rolls."

Kurumu sniffled, a tear hanging from the corner of her eye as she hung her head sadly. "My cockroach..."

"You really should have known better than to try and show it off," Moka chided, "humans have very different standards than we do as far as what's frightening."

"We'll get you a new one when we get back to the house," Ranma said, reaching over and patting the succubus on the head, "if we found one, there's gotta be more."

Yukari suddenly spoke up again, "The driver throws you all off the bus before any of you can start looting or start issuing subpoenas. Hurry up and get to shopping, already."

Tsukune opened up an item table in one of the larger books. "So we're in a general supermarket, then? Page 37?"

"That's correct," Yukari affirmed.

"Do they sell gas around here? I've been using my chainsaw more often than I thought I would," Ranma admitted.

"There's a gas station at the corner of the intersection," Yukari explained.

"My carpenter heads to the gas station," Ranma said.

Kouma raised his hand. "My lawyer follows. He needs to pick up some smokes."

"My manager follows, and would like to continue searching for matches," Moka said reluctantly, "my nurse, trusting that the GM isn't going to keep handing my manager tools to attempt homicide, will go with Tsukune and Kurumu to shop for food."

"Very well," Yukari said, turning toward Tsukune, "we'll handle your segment first. You enter the market, and notice that it's quite busy. What do you do?"

Tsukune turned toward Kurumu. "Kurumu, does your maid have a list of ingredients we can use? You probably have the highest cooking skill."

Kurumu did not respond, silently writing something on a note pad.

"Kurumu? Are you listening?" Tsukune asked.

The succubus looked startled as her head jerked up. "Yes! What? What's happening? My maid readies her broom with one hand and her bra clasp with the other!"

Tsukune sweatdropped as Moka leaned in closer. "We're just looking for groceries, Kurumu. Can you help?"

"Oh, sure. What do I have to roll?"

Moka suddenly spoke up. "You're writing a EULOGY for your roach?"

"Samuel was a beloved pet!" Kurumu protested. "And my maid didn't even get the chance to scrape the body off that NPC's shoe so we can bury it properly!" She sniffled again. "Why do humans have to be so cruel?"

"Kurumu, you can write your eulogy later. But for now we need to know what to buy," Tsukune said firmly.

"Roll the dice and then add your wisdom and skill bonuses," Yukari explained, "and then add 1 to your final score for being female."

"Why's that?" Kurumu asked as she made the roll.

"Prejudicial bonus," Yukari said, shrugging, "females are assumed to be generally better at domestic tasks if for no other reason than because society expects them to. The same applies to men and athletic affairs."

"That doesn't apply if you took the 'Destroyer of Kitchens' character flaw, though," Ranma pointed out.

Moka grimaced as she stared at her corporate manager's character sheet. "I hope this isn't foreshadowing anything..."

"Okay, I got a 19 after putting everything together," Kurumu said, still seeming quite glum.

"All right. Good score. You compile a list of cheap, easy-to-make, yet healthy recipes and hand out lists to your teammates," Yukari said.

"Yeah, okay. Let's get this over with," Kurumu grumbled.

Tsukune rolled his eyes. "Kurumu, are you THAT upset that your bug got stomped?"

The succubus sighed and suddenly fell to one side, landing her head directly in a surprised Tsukune's lap. "You know, if you want to cheer me up, your character and mine could always sneak off and find something fun to do," she said, switching instantly from despondent to sultry as she winked up at him.

Tsukune started sweating as he noted the annoyed expression on Moka's face. "Ah, Kurumu, I don't think things would work out between our characters..."

"Oh, why not?" Kurumu demanded petulantly. "It's just pretend. Can't I at least have you all to myself in my fantasies?" She batted her eyelashes innocently.

Tsukune chuckled nervously as he held up his character sheet. "It's not that... It's just that my accountant is a woman."

Kurumu vaulted upright immediately, and the others gave the young human strange looks.

"What? A woman? Why? Why would you do that?" Kurumu demanded in a panic.

"Well, I thought it would be boring if I played as someone exactly like me, so I made a female accountant," Tsukune said, shrugging, "I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"And this has nothing to do with your unsatisfied curiosities from living with a guy who shifts gender almost at will?" Yukari asked bluntly.

Tsukune flushed as he looked away from Ranma. "Well... I do have... questions that I never ask him because it might be uncomfortable."

"Thank you for that," Ranma deadpanned, "I'm being serious, now. Thanks for not asking."

"Forget all that! If you're a girl then we can't be together!" Kurumu complained. "Unless... Wait! Maybe my maid just swings that way?"

"Roll a D8, and re-roll if you get a 1," Yukari said, opening up a player's handbook.

Kurumu was surprised at the instruction, but did as told. "Uh... I got a two."

"According to the human sexuality continuum table printed here - referred to as the Kinsey scale - that puts you at 0. You're straight as can be," Yukari said.

Tsukune sweatdropped as Kurumu dropped her head onto the table, banging her forehead.

"Awww... Can't I make an exception for Tsukune? It's a fate thing!" Kurumu asked weakly.

Yukari snorted as she continued perusing the Kinsey scale data tables and graphs. "I'd buy that if you were at least a 1, but a 0? No. Your maid likes wieners."

Then the young witch brightened. "By the way, in case anyone wants to know, I'm a-"

"Nobody wants to know," said Ranma, Kouma, and Kurumu simultaneously.

* * *

"Well, that only took forever," Kouma grumbled, "can we get to the gas station now?"

"Chill out Eyebrows. At least they completed the quest," Ranma said.

"My manager wants to know if she's found any matches yet," Moka said.

"Sure. She finds a book on the ground," Yukari said, shrugging. "So what's everybody doing?"

"My carpenter buys a fuel canister," Ranma said.

"My lawyer buys a pack of cigarettes," Kouma said.

"My manager... does NOT use her matches to light Ranma's gas can on fire," Moka said, looking rather annoyed. Then she suddenly lowered her chin to glare at her own Rosario. "No, YOU suck!"

"Roll for it, Moka," Yukari requested.

"I have to roll to restrain myself from murder?" Moka asked.

"Well, really, you're rolling to restrain your evil half, since I doubt that your actions are a faithful interpretation of Evil Moka's intentions," Yukari explained.

"Hey, come on, leave me alone until I can get more chainsaw fuel," Ranma protested.

Moka sighed and tossed a D20. "I got a twelve."

"You decide not to risk it for now. There are a lot of witnesses, after all," Yukari noted.

"Well, if you're not going to be committing arson or assault, my lawyer takes a match and uses it to light up a cigarette," Kouma said.

"My carpenter leaves match-flinging range and fills up the chainsaw with fuel," Ranma followed.

"Okay. Senpai, your chainsaw is at full fuel," then Yukari rolled a D20, "Kouma, your lawyer has contracted cancer."

There was a moment of stunned silence as Kouma's eyes widened.

"WHAT?"

"Cigarette smoking induces cancer in humans," Yukari said, shrugging, "your lawyer is dying."

"Uh, actually-" Tsukune started to speak, but Kouma panicked and cut him off.

"Cancer? Nobody said anything about cancer! Why wasn't I warned about this?" the hellhound demanded.

Ranma's hand snapped to the side too fast for the human (or most non-human) eyes to see, and then he held up Kouma's cigarette carton in front of the boxer's face.

"What does it say near the bottom?" Ranma asked blithely.

"Wait, you mean that warning is real?" Kouma asked in a panic. "I thought the Surgeon General was just a marketing character! You know, like Captain Crunch!"

"Captain Crunch never warned people about the dangers of eating too much sugary cereal," Moka pointed out.

"Well, maybe if he did he'd have made General, too," Kurumu mused.

"Look, guys," Tsukune tried again, "cancer is-"

"Somebody do something!" Kouma shouted. "I'm dying, here!"

"No you're not!" Tsukune shouted suddenly, surprising everybody. "Cancer takes a fairly long time to kill a person! And it takes a long time to get it, too! Your character is not going to die any time soon."

The others stared at Tsukune silently for several seconds before Kouma snorted. "And how would you know that, anyway? You don't have any points in medicine!"

"Plus you didn't even roll for it," Yukari said, shaking her head. "Kouma, your HP drops by 5."

"Damn it! Help!"

Tsukune sighed and gave up.

"Moka's nurse has points in medicine, right? Maybe she can fix it," Ranma suggested.

"She's not here! The one time she might actually be able to help!" Kouma moaned.

"All right then, since it's come to this," Ranma said grimly, "my carpenter draws his chainsaw."

Kouma looked alarmed. "How is that supposed to help?"

"Evil Moka wants to know first if you're planning on putting him out of his misery, and second if her class gives her access to any underground organ markets," Moka asked wearily.

Ranma shook his head, "No, I'm not going to kill him, I'm going to save him. My carpenter revs his chainsaw and prepares to fight cancer."

The stunned silence didn't last long.

"You want to fight cancer?" Tsukune asked. "As in... physically?"

"With a CHAINSAW?" Kouma asked, gaping.

"Hey, I have a chainsaw, a hammer, a can of gas, and two dozen nails. I'm using the best tool I've got!" the pigtailed boy admitted.

"My manager has a letter opener," Moka volunteered.

"That would take forever," Ranma scoffed, "and we're losing Kouma fast."

"Ranma, you don't fight cancer this way," Tsukune said.

"Well, how DO you fight it?" Kouma asked, puzzled, "Hellbeasts don't have to deal with these things!"

"I've heard that sometimes humans fight it by having a bunch of healthy people walk long distances," Kurumu said, tapping her chin.

"How does THAT help?"

Kurumu shrugged. "I dunno. It always seemed kind of dumb to me, so I never looked into it."

"Well, unless you guys come up with a better idea..." Ranma picked up a D20.

"I can think of a DOZEN better ideas than-" Kouma started to say before Yukari interjected.

"5 more HP down."

Ranma raised an eyebrow and tossed the die into the air, catching it on the way down. "Well?"

"Ranma, how would you even USE a chainsaw to cure cancer?" Tsukune asked.

"It's not STRICTLY impossible," Yukari pointed out, "assuming that the tumor is isolated enough, that it resides in an organ that can survive a degree of trauma, and of course there are the more finicky matters of a carpenter being able to identify and remove the cancerous tissue with a non-surgical tool and keep the patient alive without any anesthetic or disinfectant." Yukari shook her head. "Rather than impossible, it's just so outlandishly unlikely and pointlessly dangerous that someone would have to be a complete idiot to even try."

"Story of my life," Ranma quipped as he tossed the D20 onto the table, "now let's do this."

* * *

Silence reigned at the table as everyone stared at a group of dice sitting in the middle of the table next to a Wikipedia printout of a human skeleton and a crude outline of a human body marked with pencil lines to indicate incisions.

"My carpenter puts away his chainsaw." Ranma raised his head. "Well?"

It took some time for Yukari to find her voice. "Well... Uh... You, Ranma Saotome, hippie carpenter-slash-martial artist... have defeated cancer."

"With a chainsaw," Ranma added.

"With a chainsaw, yes," Yukari amended. "Erm... You get... 1000 XP, I guess."

Kouma was looking glumly at his character sheet. "Is the nurse almost back yet? I'm pretty sure my lawyer is at death's door."

"Your lawyer is practically kicking it down at this point, but yes, Moka arrives with Kurumu and Tsukune with her," Yukari said.

"My nurse proceeds to tend to Kouma, first stopping the bleeding and then disinfecting the exposed tissue," Moka said quickly, looking somewhat distressed as she started rolling dice.

_'Man, it's too bad we're not vampires in this game. I'll bet the blood is EVERYWHERE,' _Evil Moka mused.

Ranma simply leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest while looking exceptionally smug.

"How did you roll THAT many 19s and 20s?" Tsukune asked, his eyes still locked on the dice on the table.

"Secret technique. Martial arts LARPing. I learned it in this one match during middle school," Ranma said, turning his eyes away, "it's not like I'm real proud of that fight, but it can come in handy."

"You realize I'll find a way to sue you for this," Kouma grumbled.

"I doubt it. I still have fuel left for the chainsaw."

"You'll run out eventually!"

"My manager wants to know if she can go home and eat now..."

* * *

The next session saw Ranma, Kurumu, and Kouma gathered in front of Yukari, with the former two thumbing through books as they made adjustments to their character sheets. Kouma was quite busy looking bitter and shooting glares at Ranma (which was near enough to his usual behavior that nobody really noticed).

"So I'm definitely going to put my new skill points into Handyman rather than Construction, but I'm not sure about taking the Chainsaw Carving feat," Ranma mused aloud.

"Why? Because you don't think you'll use it?" Kurumu asked.

"No, because I'll use it all the time, and then we won't be able to get down the street without me chainsawing something," Ranma mumbled, "it might start to get old, you know?"

"True. And I have a hard time imagining how you'll top beating cancer anyway. Go for Resist Hardware Store instead. Then maybe it won't take us until evening to get back to the house for breakfast," Kurumu said.

"Oh, come on! I needed a new chain after the first one jammed up from all the bones!" Ranma protested. "Anyway, what are you doing?"

"I'm not sure if I should bother taking a second level of maid," Kurumu admitted glumly, "I did it for the sex appeal, but what's the point if Tsukune's a woman?"

"Well, you DID complete the main quest mostly on your own and got enough XP from making us dinner that you leveled up," Ranma reasoned, "I mean, all Moka did was keep Kouma alive."

"Yeah, she seems just as useless as in real life," Kurumu agreed.

"And would you stop glaring at me like you're trying to light me on fire?" Ranma demanded as he turned toward Kouma.

"I AM trying to light you on fire," Kouma groused, his eyes a blazing red as he concentrated on the center of Ranma's shirt.

"Oh. So that's why I smelled smoke," Ranma reasoned before he swatted the hellhound in the nose, "well, cut it out. You might damage my character sheet."

As Kouma growled uselessly, Ranma turned back to Kurumu. "Well, if you don't want to bother sexing anyone up anymore, you might as well just put the points into stuff like cooking and cleaning, right?"

"Which in turn would help you level up faster," Yukari observed, "your class is kind of an XP farmer."

Then the Game Master snapped at Kouma, "As for you, quit your moping. I gave you some XP despite the fact that all you did was get cancer and bleed all over the ground. So you didn't gain a level yet. Get over it."

"I wanted to file a lawsuit against the cigarette company, but you wouldn't let me!" Kouma protested.

"Of course not. You had just been through incredibly destructive surgery and Moka barely rolled high enough to save your life. Of course you'd be laid up for the entire day. You're only human."

"Well, it's a LITTLE unrealistic that you'd be out for the ENTIRE day just from having a lung ripped open," Ranma said, "you know, speaking as a human."

"Sure, Senpai. Whatever you say," Yukari offered, although she looked rather exasperated.

"I am, damn you..."

Suddenly, Kurumu shivered. "Whoa... Did anyone else feel that?"

"You mean that oppressive wave of power that suddenly appeared a minute ago and has been steadily approaching?" Kouma asked. "Yeah. What about it?"

"Uh... Any idea what it might be?" Kurumu asked, a bit nonplussed at the lack of distress by the others.

"Eh, Tsukune probably tripped," Ranma suggested.

"... I don't get it," Kurumu said.

Then the door to the classroom burst open. "Hello everyone," Moka said, her eyes a blazing crimson and her hair a gleaming silver as she sauntered into the room.

"Never mind. I get it," Kurumu grumbled as she returned to her player handbook.

Evil Moka glanced around the room, noting the general lack of reaction at her appearance. "You don't have to prostrate yourselves before me, but you can act a LITTLE surprised," the vampiress said, folding her arms under her breasts.

"It's nice of you to let us off prostrating, but we're kind of busy, here," Ranma said, finally looking up at the unsealed Moka, "can we do our epic battle after the session?"

"I didn't come here to fight," Evil Moka said, surprising everyone in the room far more than her actual appearance did, "today I'll be controlling my corporate manager directly."

As she took a seat, Tsukune came staggering through the door after her, looking as if he had run the whole way here and holding a familiar Rosario in his hand.

"S-Sorry about this. I tripped," Tsukune said between breaths.

"Called it," Ranma said, smirking.

"You know, this wouldn't happen if you didn't keep trying to feel her up at every opportunity," Kurumu said, looking put out as Tsukune looked shocked at the accusation, "if you really want to grope someone, you just have to ask me! I'm sure mine are way more fun to play with!"

This elicited a derisive snort from Evil Moka and a flushed protest from Tsukune.

"I didn't try to feel her up! You're wrong! It's an accident!"

"Dude, it's a little too convenient how your hand always ends up over her chest every time you trip or fall on her," Kouma said.

Evil Moka, who seemed to be ignoring the discussion about her being groped, suddenly held out her character sheet to Yukari. "Here. Level me up."

"Moka, you don't have enough experience to get to the next level," Ranma explained, gesturing to his own sheet, "neither of your characters got enough bonus XP to-"

"All done!" Yukari said, handing the sheet back to Evil Moka with all the adjustments finished.

"Good work," Evil Moka said with a smug smile as she looked over Yukari's adjustments (made in a small fraction of the time it had taken Ranma and Kurumu, of course).

"WHAT THE HELL?" Kouma shouted, a small fireball suddenly bursting above his head and causing those seated closest to him to shield their papers. "You just gave her a level for no reason? All she did was heal me and a few innocent bystanders!"

"No, no," Yukari said, shaking her head, "I just leveled up Evil Moka's manager, not Moka's nurse."

"What? Then she didn't accomplish anything more than my character did!" the hellhound protested furiously.

"Well, she DID slow us down a bit less, if that counts for something," Ranma pointed out, not helping the situation one bit.

"It's not that she was any more effective or that she earned more experience," Yukari reasoned, "but rather that she has one more shirt button undone than usual."

"A formidable opponent," Kurumu hissed as Kouma gaped.

Evil Moka glanced down at her chest, blinking. "I didn't do that on purpose, actually. I think Tsukune pulled it open earlier," she mumbled while fixing the button in question.

Tsukune's face glowed red as everyone slowly shifted their gazes toward him. "Accident! It was an accident, I tell you!"

"Okay, fine. Whatever you say, pervert," the hellhound grumbled, "so if everyone ELSE is done leveling up, can we start already?"

"Just one question," Yukari said, "Evil Moka, will you be handling Moka's nurse faithfully, or should I be tasking you with 'resist murder rolls' when you attempt to kill Senpai's carpenter?"

Evil Moka raised an eyebrow. "I won't be handling my other self's character at all. She'll be sitting this session out."

"Can't she just tell you what to do in your head like you do with her?" Ranma asked.

"No, she cannot," Evil Moka said with a contemptuous glare at the pigtailed boy. "The pink-haired ninny you're used to is not some alternate personality buried in my mind that emerges when convenient. She is a facade, an illusion of a soul created by the seal by subverting my thoughts. So long as the Rosario is off, that Moka does not exist."

"Oh. Okay. Just wondering," Yukari said as she opened up her note book. "All right, let me just make a few preliminary rolls..."

"Wait, is it just me, or did Evil Moka say something kind of disturbing just now?" Tsukune asked.

"Save it for the main story," Kouma snapped, "we don't want your personal drama messing up our play time."

"All right, everyone! It's time to do some laundry!" Yukari cheered.

There was a distinct lack of cheerfulness in the players.

"Laundry? That's a quest? Isn't that a bit too easy?" Tsukune asked.

"Did you think that about making breakfast? Because one of you almost DIED doing that," Yukari pointed out.

"Well, that's not happening to me again! No more smoking!" Kouma said, planting a hand over his heart. "Now that I have an actual human body to look after, I'm going to take my health seriously! Lots of fruits and no drugs and plenty of-"

Yukari looked up from consulting a data table. "By the way, you're addicted to tobacco. If you don't have a cigarette soon, you may suffer extremely painful withdrawal symptoms or even die."

Ranma sighed as Kouma gaped wordlessly. "Can I fix withdrawal symptoms with a chainsaw?"

"You cannot. I feel confident in saying that curing addiction with a chainsaw is strictly impossible," Yukari explained.

"Sorry Eyebrows, you're on your own," Ranma said, shrugging.

"This is ridiculous! Humans have to put up with cancer AND addiction? Why would anybody EVER smoke?" Kouma asked, obviously distressed.

Tsukune rolled his eyes. "Well, to be fair, it's not QUITE as deadly in real life as Yukari's made it out to be."

"That's probably true," Yukari admitted, "I have been rolling really high on the drug and alcohol tables."

"No, that's not what I-"

"Question," Evil Moka said suddenly, "this one is a maid, correct?" she pointed at Kurumu, who bristled in response.

"'This one'? I have a name, you know!" the succubus protested.

"So long as you insist on referring to me by idiotic monikers, I will refer to you however I wish," Evil Moka declared, shooting Kurumu a glare out of the corner of her eye.

Kurumu, Ranma, Kouma, and Yukari all glanced at each other silently, and then nodded.

"That sounds fair."

"Can't complain, I guess."

"Well, if that's the only way to keep calling you Evil..."

"Does that mean we can call you ANY idiotic moniker, or just that one?"

Evil Moka's annoyance was almost palpable, but she managed to let the topic go as she locked gazes with Kurumu. "Answer my question. You're a maid, correct?"

"A level 2 maid, yeah," Kurumu grumbled, "what of it?"

"So do our laundry, then," Evil Moka said, "problem solved. Next quest."

"Wait, Moka, she's not OUR maid," Tsukune said, glancing to the girl in question. "Right?"

Kurumu's expression turned sultry as she leaned closer to Tsukune. "Well, if YOU were to ask me, I could certainly do some cleaning in your-"

"You're straight. Quit it," Yukari said suddenly, hurling a D12 that bounced painfully off of Kurumu's forehead.

As Kurumu's face darkened, Evil Moka shrugged.

"I can't be the only one who appreciates that we have a domestic laborer in the party and that our quest happens to be a common household chore. Let's leave it to the servant and do something else."

"Oh, really? So I do all the work while you get all the benefit?" Kurumu said, planting her hands on her hips.

"I'm a manager. Get used to it."

"Okay, let's all calm down for a second," Ranma said, holding up his arms. It was usually Tsukune's role to play peacekeeper when their friends were arguing, but the younger human seemed exasperated for some reason. "First of all, are there even washing machines in this place?"

"No. There is, however, a coin laundromat just down the block," Yukari pointed out.

"Okay, well, I don't think it's right to make Kurumu lug all our clothes around outside without an escort or anything, or pay for it herself, so I'll definitely be going," Ranma said, nodding.

"I'll go too," Tsukune said predictably.

"I need the XP," Kouma grumbled.

Evil Moka clicked her tongue. "I see... Very well. Then I, too, shall accompany you," the vampiress said reluctantly, "however, you will still do my laundry while we're there."

"Oh, I'll hang something out to dry, all right," Kurumu mumbled.

Tsukune seemed encouraged by the agreement, and once again spoke up. "All right then, this should be easy. My accountant gathers up her dirty clothes in a sack and exits the building. I take it the rest of you do the same?"

"My manager dumps her clothes on top of the maid's and then prepares to depart," Evil Moka said casually, looking slightly bored.

"Hey! Come on!" Kurumu protested, "putting aside that I don't want to do your laundry too, you'll get our clothes mixed up!"

"I hardly think sorting them will be a problem," the silver-haired girl replied, "my clothes would be easy to tell from yours. They're the tasteful ones."

As Kurumu fumed, Yukari nodded. "Yes, I do believe that qualified as a 'burn'. Kurumu, make an ego saving throw to avoid damage to your self-esteem."

Kurumu made a rather Kouma-like growl as she rolled her D20. "I got a 7. With modifiers, that's a 13."

"Okay, you're fine, but you don't get to make a witty comeback of opportunity," Yukari explained.

"Swell. Are we done sabotaging ourselves yet, or can we start our journey to the end of the block?" Kurumu groused.

"We can go," Kouma said, "I'm saving the good sabotage for when we actually get to the laundromat."

"Great. Let's get outside, already," Tsukune mumbled, really wishing that he knew how to re-attach Moka's Rosario himself.

"You exit the building and start heading down the street," Yukari said, "about halfway down the block is a hardware store."

"Damn it!" Ranma cursed, picking up a D20 and rolling it.

Many of the other players winced as the red polygon bounced to a stop, exposing a 1 for all to see.

"Double damn it!" Ranma snapped, hanging his head. "Can I feel shame as a minor action?"

"No, you're going to be using all your actions to get into the hardware store as fast as possible," Yukari insisted, "there will be no time for shame."

"I thought you got a feat to deal with that!" Kurumu said.

Ranma winced. "No, I took... something else."

"Like what?" Tsukune asked.

"... Proficiency: Ancient Chinese Martial Arts," Ranma admitted sheepishly.

"I think we need to take away that source book of his," Evil Moka deadpanned.

"Ranma, when are you EVER going to need Ancient Chinese Martial Arts?" Kurumu asked.

"Hey, it comes in handy in real life!" the pigtailed boy protested.

"This isn't real life, this is a world without monsters, magic, or over-the-top hand-to-hand combat," Yukari explained, shrugging, "as ridiculous and unrealistic as that sounds. Anyway, you immediately toss your sack of clothes at Kurumu's maid and bolt for the hardware store. The party has lost it's carpenter."

As Kurumu started fuming again, Tsukune spoke up.

"My accountant takes Ranma's share of clothes to lighten the burden on Kurumu's maid."

Kurumu looked relieved as she sidled up closer to Tsukune. "Thank you! That makes this-"

"Ah ah ah!" Yukari suddenly shouted. "Not so close! That's a woman! You have boundaries!"

Kurumu's mood promptly dipped again, and Evil Moka very deliberately yawned before she said, "So can we continue to our objective now?"

"Okay, fine. You approach the laundromat," Yukari said before rolling several dice behind her GM screen. "Random encounter time!"

Everyone groaned.

"All right, fine. So we're dealing with, what? Joggers? A dog that escaped it's leash? Teenagers?" Tsukune asked.

Yukari glanced over her papers. "You've been attacked by wolves."

Tsukune was stunned into silence, but on this occasion he was the only one.

"My lawyer readies his briefcase."

"My maid gets out her broom."

"My manager draws a letter opener with one hand and a pair of scissors in the other."

"Oh, you can dual-wield? Neat!"

Ranma sighed. "I guess my carpenter decides to check out the screws section of the hardware store."

Yukari nodded. "You reach the screws section. There are an awful lot of screws! You decide to closely observe the different kinds of screws and determine a specific ideal use for every single one!"

"Awesome," Ranma said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"Wait, hold on, let's back up a minute," Tsukune said, "back to the wolves thing. Why are we fighting wolves?"

"Because they ambushed you in front of the laundromat," Yukari explained simply, "of course, you can always attempt to flee, but you won't be able to do your laundry then."

"No, Yukari, this is supposed to be a game about ordinary human life, right? Humans don't get attacked by wolves."

"I've been attacked by wolves," Ranma pointed out.

"You've been attacked by EVERYTHING," Tsukune countered, silencing his roommate.

Yukari looked surprised. "Really? Humans never have to fight off wolves?"

Tsukune hesitated. "Well... Okay, I guess it DOES happen, but rarely!"

"Well, consider this one of those rare times," Yukari said, shrugging.

"But we're in a city! There's no place for wolves to live!" Tsukune protested.

"Look, I know the encounter tables are ridiculous, but that's what I rolled," Yukari said, "so there are wolves now. Prepare to fight, already."

"See? I'll bet you wish you had ancient Chinese martial arts now!" Ranma said.

"Actually, I'd settle for a chainsaw," Kurumu deadpanned, "rolling initiative..."

* * *

"You enter the laundromat, dragging your gore-stained dirty clothes behind you wearily," Yukari said as she described the next setting, "all except for you, Evil Moka, who looks rather stunning in your new coat. Although you are fairly blood-soaked as well."

"I don't suppose wolf fur is machine-washable, is it?" Evil Moka asked, looking quite satisfied with herself.

"No, you're going to want that dry-cleaned," Yukari confirmed.

"Your manager is... pretty good at fighting," Kurumu mumbled, looking distressed at the state of her character.

"Business isn't for the meek," the vampiress said, her eyes narrowing, "fighting bloodthirsty animals is nothing compared to a serious corporate restructuring."

Tsukune leaned over to Ranma and whispered inconspicuously, "is it just me, or is Evil Moka actually getting into this?"

"I don't know why you're surprised," Ranma mumbled back, "if I was locked in a piece of jewelry with no one but Moka to talk to, I'd LEAP at the chance to spend time with other people."

"I can hear you, you know," Evil Moka drawled, causing Tsukune to wince and Ranma to shrug.

"Okay, so all of you except Senpai are in the laundromat. You see rows upon rows of washing machines and dryers, a coin machine, and a vending machine that dispenses detergent and fabric softener."

Then Yukari turned toward Tsukune. "Tsukune, as you took considerable damage from the encounter, all of your rolls will have a -2 penalty."

Tsukune shrugged. "Okay, well, I doubt that I'll be making many rolls to do laundry, so that's fine. Still, it'd be nice to have a nurse around."

"Pardon me for not choosing a skill set to compensate for the weakness of others," Evil Moka said, rolling her eyes.

"You did kind of suck in that battle, man," Kouma admitted, "I mean, you didn't even have a weapon!"

"I'm an accountant. And a human. There's no reason for me to have a weapon," Tsukune groused.

"Really? So humans never get into fights just walking down the street?" Kurumu asked curiously.

"Sure we do," Ranma said before his roommate could answer, "he's just saying that humans don't need to have a weapon to defend themselves. We can easily fight with our bare hands."

"No, that's not..." Tsukune trailed off for a moment, recognizing the futility of continuing to argue. "Oh, whatever. How are you doing in the hardware store?"

"Senpai's carpenter has discovered an upgrade chain in the chainsaw section," Yukari explained.

"Well, I hardly think I need a new chain, since I bought one last-" Ranma began before Yukari cut him off.

"This special alloy chain has heavy teeth which can exert much more force before jamming or chipping," Yukari explained, "if you get the upgrade, your chainsaw will be able to cut through most metals."

Ranma's previous thought promptly vanished. "Uh... And how much does it cost?"

"Ranma, we're just doing laundry, here," Kurumu deadpanned.

"But there are wolves around!" Ranma protested in return.

Tsukune started to speak, but then thought the better of it and just sighed instead.

"I can tell you from personal experience that the wolves' hides are not exceptionally well-armored," Evil Moka said, looking bored again as she waited for Ranma's situation to be resolved.

"Okay, okay, fine. No chainsaw upgrades," Ranma grumbled, "but don't blame me if we get attacked by robots or something and Evil Moka's scissors can't hold them off," he warned.

"Don't be a fool," Evil Moka quipped, "of course we'll blame you. Now hurry up and join us."

Ranma grated his teeth for a moment before tossing his D20. "Rolling to escape the accursed hardware store."

Yukari blinked. "Ooh, a 20! You successfully escape, Senpai, and rush to join the others."

"Okay, well, I'm going to go ahead and put my dirty clothes in the washing machine," Tsukune said, finally drawing attention back to the main event. "Oh! And I'll put Ranma's clothes in a different machine!"

Kouma frowned. "Uh... My lawyer watches his accountant and does whatever she does."

"Whoa! Hey, wait!" Kurumu said suddenly, chopping a hand down in front of her would-be lover, "Tsukune, what are you doing?"

Tsukune blinked. "Laundry? Is something wrong?"

"You're a woman now, remember? You can't just dump everything into one load and start up the machine! What would happen to all your lingerie?" Kurumu asked, scandalized.

Tsukune stared blankly at her. "Uh... I have no idea."

Evil Moka sighed. "Tsukune, why do you think they have different cycle settings on washing machines in the first place?"

"Underwear uses the delicate cycle! You have to separate it from the other clothes! And make sure to wash bright colors separate from your whites!"

The young human said nothing, completely clueless and honestly quite stunned that he was being lectured on the use of everyday technology by a vampire and a succubus.

"Wait, are you serious? Why go through all that trouble?" Kouma asked.

The disdainful stares the two girls gave him immediately caused the hellhound to hang his head in embarrassment.

"Men," Kurumu snorted, "you have no idea how hard it is to be a girl."

"Take note, Tsukune," Evil Moka said as she straightened and ran a hand through her hair, "if you're going to be roleplaying as one of us, then you'll experience a small taste of our burden, at least."

Tsukune and Kouma glanced over to Yukari.

"Don't look at me," the pre-teen said, "I just magic all my stuff clean."

Their gazes slowly shifted further, meeting Ranma's irritated gaze.

"I always turn back before I have to deal with the complicated things," Ranma said bluntly.

Kurumu tapped her chin with a finger. "So you've never experimented with-"

"Is my carpenter at the laundromat yet?" Ranma asked Yukari, quite deliberately cutting Kurumu off.

"Yes. He walks in and sees the maid and the manager explaining laundry to the accountant," Yukari explains.

"Cool. My carpenter gets some detergent from the vending machine and dumps it in the machine," Ranma explained.

"How much do you use?" Yukari asked.

Ranma shrugged. "Half, I guess. Then my carpenter closes the machine."

"Aren't you even going to check the bottle to see how much you're supposed to use?" Kurumu asked.

"I'll do my laundry like a MAN, thank you very much," Ranma said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Which means no reading?" Evil Moka asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Which means I'm not going to turn a simple chore into freaking brain surgery," Ranma said snidely, "just put your stuff in the machine and hit go. As long as it gets clean, who cares?"

"Evil Moka, you may slap Ranma, if you want," Yukari said suddenly.

_SMACK!_ The other players winced as Ranma went flying across the room and crashed heavily into the wall.

"Er... I meant in the game," Yukari said a bit awkwardly.

"No thanks, I'm good now," Evil Moka said, smiling brightly.

"Well, I'm going to do my laundry like the hippie," Kouma explained, "so I take the other half of the detergent and dump it in."

As Ranma got up and walked back to his seat wordlessly, Yukari looked over her notes.

"All right. You see a dial that has four settings: hot, cold, permanent press, and delicate."

Kouma started to sweat. "Uh... I... I ask my companions for advice!"

"Haven't you ever done laundry before? In the real world?" Tsukune asked, surprised by how nervous the hellhound was.

"No! I always have my gofer do it!" Kouma admitted.

"You have a gofer?" Kurumu asked, perplexed, "why would anyone do jobs for YOU?"

"Well, outside of you psychos, I actually AM a pretty strong and respected student, you know," the hellhound said irritably, "and imps will do work for anyone not likely to eat them."

"All right, whatever, shut up," Ranma said, rubbing his badly bruised cheek, "just do what I do. What setting is my dial on?"

"Permanent press," Yukari said.

"That's fine. My carpenter feeds coins into the washing machine and then hits the start button."

"Okay! The machine starts up! Kouma, is your lawyer doing the same thing?"

"... I'm thinking," the hellhound murmured.

"About what? Just run it, already," Ranma said.

"But it says permanent press! Permanent! If I screw this up now my entire wardrobe is done for!"

"My carpenter gives up on teaching the lawyer anything, ever," Ranma said.

"Probably wise," Kurumu admitted. "My maid divides up her and and Evil Moka's clothes into underwear, darks, and bright colors."

"You're going to use three machines?" Tsukune asked.

"No, I'm going to use SIX machines. I don't want the manager's clothes mixed in with mine," Kurumu explained.

"All right, you fill up the machines," Yukari said, "however, you then realize that you don't have enough coins for the last two of them."

Kurumu turned toward Evil Moka. "Hey, help me out here! I'm doing your laundry too!"

The vampiress snorted. "You're asking me for coins? Don't be absurd. I don't carry anything smaller than a 10,000 yen bill."

Yukari looked surprised. "Really? But your character sheet should only list your total cash, not denominations. Ordinarily it would be up to me to-"

"I'm well aware. But I'm telling you that my manager wouldn't deign to keep change on her person," Evil Moka insisted.

"So... you're creating an unnecessary obstacle for the party just so that your character looks more like a snob?" Ranma asked.

"It's called 'roleplaying,'" Evil Moka said, smirking proudly.

"Well-played, Evil Moka. You gain 200 bonus XP," Yukari said.

Kouma groaned pitifully.

"So then what are we going to do about coins?" Kurumu demanded, drawing the group back to the immediate problem.

"Establishments such as these usually possess machines to change bills, don't they?" Evil Moka asked, "otherwise everyone would need to go to the bank just to wash their clothes."

"Good observation, Evil Moka," Yukari said, nodding, "in fact, there is a change machine, but it seems someone has put gum in the bill slot, blocking it."

The vampiress clicked her tongue. "Well, it's no matter. We have the tools to deal with this problem."

Tsukune nodded. "Yeah, if you use that letter opener to-"

"Such a small weapon can't break the machine open," Evil Moka interrupted.

"But you don't need to brea-"

Once again Evil Moka interrupted him. "Hippie carpenter. Once again, your chainsaw is required to resolve our problem."

"Uh huh," Ranma drawled, "hey, GM, quick question: what's the machine made out of?"

"Aluminum."

The other players - save Tsukune, who was holding his head in his hands and restraining his urge to scream - winced as Ranma raised an eyebrow.

"Well, well, well. And my poor carpenter only has a flimsy non-upgraded chainsaw that can't cut through aluminum, right GM?" Ranma asked.

"Correct! I believe this situation is best described by ruleset 6.8, under the heading section 'irony'."

"Look. We don't need you to saw through the machine," Tsukune said, once again trying to appeal to the common sense of his friends, "all we need to do is get rid of the gum."

"Ah! Right! Good idea, Tsukune!" Kurumu said brightly as Evil Moka nodded.

"You're correct. Hippie carpenter, use your chainsaw on the gum," the silver-tressed girl demanded, causing Tsukune to facepalm yet again.

"It wouldn't cause damage to say 'please,' you know," Ranma grumbled as he picked up his D20. "Rolling to chainsaw gum."

The other players watched and then winced as the die landed on a 1.

"As you swing your chainsaw around, Senpai, the handle suddenly breaks off, sending the entire machine flying at..." Yukari tapped her chin as her gaze shifted from person to person, "at Kouma."

"Guh!" The hellhound groaned as Yukari started picking up and rolling dice. "Why me?"

"Discrimination, mostly," the young witch admitted. "You take 18 damage."

"Damn it! I'm unconscious and bleeding!"

Ranma frowned. "Okay, well... That was my fault, so I guess I'll try to stop the bleeding. After I pick up my chainsaw, of course."

"Of course. Roll your medicine check to perform first aid," Yukari instructed.

Ranma did so, and Kouma breathed a sigh of relief when the twenty-sided die came up on a 20.

"Very good! Kouma, your lawyer is alive and stable but unconscious."

"Hey... Ranma? You know, I only just noticed, but..." Tsukune scratched his head, "is it just me, or do you only ever seem to roll really well or really poorly? I don't think I've ever seen you roll anything between 3 and 18."

"It's the weakness of my rolling technique," Ranma admitted, clenching his fist regretfully, "while I can get short streaks of amazing rolls at a time, they're always followed by really bad ones. On a side note, the technique is called 'Crit or Miss'!"

Evil Moka considered that information briefly before her eyes narrowed. "The vast majority of tasks in this game only require mediocre rolls to succeed. Even a poor roll will sometimes suffice, if the task is one that a given character excels at. By limiting yourself to either fantastic success or complete failure, doesn't your technique decrease your performance overall, and negate any advantage offered by your character class?"

Ranma was silent for a few seconds, and then his eyes narrowed as well. "Shut up! I defeated cancer!"

Evil Moka snorted. "Whatever. Back to the task at hand."

"But how are we going to get the gum out without Ranma's chainsaw?" Kurumu asked. "He rolled a 20 before, so his next roll will probably be a 1!"

"You can use the-" yet again Tsukune was cut off and ignored as Evil Moka spoke.

"I have a solution that makes use of the current debacle," the vampiress reassured the other schoolgirl, "my manager loots the lawyer's body for cash."

"HEY!" Kouma growled. "I'm not dead!"

"Kouma's right, Evil Moka," Yukari agreed, nodding her head, "since he's still alive, taking his money isn't looting, it's just theft."

Evil Moka raised an eyebrow. "But I can still do it, right?"

"Sure! You take all of Kouma's pocket money, which includes enough coins to run the machines."

Black smoke started to seep from between Kouma's teeth as he stewed silently, gripping his character sheet so tightly that it looked about to tear. "I hate you all."

"Your ire is duly noted. Gamemaster, my manager gives the servant as many coins as she needs to finish her task," the silver-tressed girl said.

"Um, my accountant makes a note of how much money was removed, and marks it down so that it can be repaid later," Tsukune said, startling the other players.

Kouma was fairly stunned, and even caught a teardrop coming out of his eye before he wiped it away. "Th... Thanks, Aono. I... I appreciate it," the hellhound said awkwardly, unused to being exposed to acts of good will.

"Well, it's only right," Tsukune reasoned, "and besides, it's the first time my accountant has gotten the chance to use her skills."

Evil Moka's eyes narrowed. "My manager uses her kickback power on the accountant."

Tsukune flinched. "Wh-huh?"

Before he could offer a more coherent protest, Evil Moka tossed her D20. "I got a fourteen after bonuses. How much damage do I inflict?"

"The kickback power doesn't cause damage," Yukari explained, much to Evil Moka's confusion, "it's basically a bribe."

"But then how am I to kick people so that they know their place?" the vampiress asked.

"That's the 'Right-sizing' power. You didn't choose that one."

"Curses!" Evil Moka slammed a fist onto the table, causing the surface to shudder as the legs almost buckled. "Undone by the jargon of my own trade!"

"You're right, she IS really into this," Kurumu whispered to Tsukune.

"Hey, GM, is my laundry done yet? I need to get a head start on the way back home just in case I get caught by the hardware store again," Ranma asked.

"All right Senpai, make a chore roll, and I'll add a modifier based on your cycle choice and detergent use," Yukari explained.

Ranma did so, and Kurumu groaned as the D20 landed on a 1 once again.

"Okay, well, forget the modifiers then," Yukari mumbled. "Give me a minute to look up the right disaster table."

"Are you still using that idiotic technique?" Evil Moka deadpanned.

"Are you still not shutting up?" Ranma snapped back, though he looked fairly depressed about the outcome.

"Well, Moka does have a point about your never rolling an average number," Tsukune reasoned, "so maybe you shouldn't use it for now."

"But I never learned that technique!" Ranma protested, "I mean, what good is a skill that makes you be average all the time?"

"We could call it Aono-fu!" Yukari declared, "but, seriously, from a practical standpoint, that would be incredibly useful. By the way, the washing machine starts rumbling ominously as suds seep from the lid."

"My carpenter dives for cover," Ranma said.

"My accountant joins him," Tsukune said.

"My manager follows the hippie carpenter and uses him as a shield," Evil Moka said.

"My maid hides underneath a laundry basket," Kurumu said.

"And my lawyer-"

"Is still knocked out," interrupted Yukari, "and, might I add, right next to the washing machine in question because you were trying to mimic Senpai."

"W-Wait, I didn't-" Kouma's protest died in his throat as Yukari started rolling dice.

"So! With a wretched gurgle, the door of the washing machine is blasted free of its hinges, and the machine bulges horribly as the pressure inside becomes too much for the device to bear. With a sudden BANG, the washing machine explodes in a burst of soap and metal shards!"

There was a long, awkward silence as Kouma stared blankly at the HP total on his character sheet.

"Okay, fine, so maybe I should read the instructions on the bottle," Ranma grumbled.

"Kouma, your lawyer takes 15 damage. He's dead."

_Fwoof!_ Kouma's character sheet suddenly lit on fire as he grit his teeth, his canines unconsciously lengthening into curved, knife-like fangs.

"Did we seriously just get someone killed doing laundry?" Tsukune deadpanned, covering his face with his palms.

"Hmph. What a shoddy facility," Evil Moka said contemptuously, "we should sue the owner for... Oh. Right."

"Well, I'm going to clean up the body before the police arrive," Kurumu said, "looks like we failed the quest."

"No, only Ranma and Kouma. And non-evil Moka too, I guess, since she skipped this session. The other washing machines are okay, and since you managed to take Kouma's money before he died, you should be able to finish up by the time the coroner arrives for the body," Yukari explained at length.

"Aw, man! That means I probably won't level up this session," Ranma complained, seemingly oblivious as Kouma turned a death glare on him, "just my luck."

"I WILL DRAG YOU TO HELL AND PISS ON YOUR SOUL!" Kouma shouted, his voice booming and his eyes turning a bright, solid crimson as he lunged across the table at the pigtailed boy.

Tsukune sighed and flinched away from a flare of heat as the two other boys started brawling in earnest. "Why don't we leave it at this for now? I need to go find some more fire extinguishers."

"Very well," Evil Moka said, standing up and idly running a hand through her hair, "so then this session is over?"

"I guess so. See you next week?" Kurumu asked, feeling a bit awkward talking to the silver-haired, relentlessly aggressive form of her friend.

"It depends on whether there's something in the hall for Tsukune to 'trip' on," Evil Moka said frankly, "anyway, if we're done..."

Then she turned around and launched herself toward Kouma and Ranma, her body already twisting into a kick. "Noisy cretins! Know your place!"

Yukari hummed to herself as she put away her papers, though the sound was mostly swallowed up by the sound of the wall collapsing. 'We'll probably need a new meeting place. There won't be much left of this one.'

"All right! Are you all ready for your next adventure?" Yukari asked as she started dumping out dice bags onto the table.

Moka - the normal one this time - sighed as she looked gloomily at her character sheet. "Still level 1... I didn't even get participation XP, like Ranma did."

_'Oh, stop your moaning,'_ Evil Moka snapped from within her head. _'What good would it have done were I to have used your character as well?'_

'Well, you could have saved Kouma, for one,' Moka thought back wryly.

_'I asked what GOOD it would have done,'_ the inner vampiress countered.

"Hey, everyone! I brought cookies today!" Kurumu said brightly as she sat down, placing a large bowl of snicker doodles in the middle of the table.

As Tsukune thanked Kurumu and took one, he noticed that the group seemed to be short a player. "Hey, where's Kouma?"

"Probably still moping that Ranma killed him," Yukari said with a snigger, shrugging.

"Hey, it was a total accident!" Ranma protested, "and besides, he's had plenty of time to cool off by now! I expected him to be back with a new anti-chainsaw character, plotting revenge or something!"

"Yes, well, I admit, there's an equally good chance he's not here because I told him that we were meeting in the same place as last time, when we actually had to change rooms because the last one was wrecked," Yukari mused.

* * *

Kouma frowned as he stared at the bands of caution tape stretched out from wall to wall of the small classroom, warning students away from the splintered remains of the furniture and the huge hole in the wall leading to outside.

"Guys? Hello? Are you here?" He held up a handful of papers. "I rolled a chef this time... Are we gonna play?"

A pair of schoolgirls snickered quietly as they walked down the hallway behind the classroom, casting furtive glances at the confused hellhound.

"Geek."

"Total."

* * *

Tsukune sweatdropped. "Uh... Yukari, do you hate Kouma?"

"EVERYBODY hates Kouma," Yukari said, rolling her eyes. "He's an aggravating jerk who refuses to use his only real talents because of his stupid emotional baggage."

Kurumu snorted. "He already stinks of cigarettes all the time, and whenever he gets angry - which is also pretty much ALL THE TIME - he starts exhaling poisonous smoke. Also, sitting near him is five degrees warmer than everywhere else in the room."

Moka frowned. "Well, he certainly isn't very nice, and he acts like spending time with us is some kind of punishment that's being forced upon him. If he doesn't want to be here, no one is stopping him from leaving rather than just complaining about it constantly."

Then Moka paused. "My other self would like to add that he's way too full of himself as a fighter, when he's too weak to even stand up to Ranma. He needs to learn his place, apparently."

Tsukune said nothing, a bit surprised and overwhelmed at the amount of animosity the hellhound commanded among the girls, even Moka.

"Well... I like Kouma," Ranma said, looking fairly distressed. "He's a decent guy when it counts, he doesn't back down easily, and he's the only person I can really talk martial arts with, since Chopper isn't much good for conversation."

Yukari leaned over and patted Ranma on the shoulder. "That's because, in addition to being a marvel of physical perfection, you're also gracious enough to pity those who are but a pale reflection of your greatness," Yukari explained gently.

Ranma fought off a flush of his cheeks as he coughed and looked the other way. "Well, I guess I can't really say that's WRONG..."

"Anyway, if you're not just putting up with him so that you never need to carry matches ever again, why are you always antagonizing him?" Kurumu asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"It's just part of our manly, tough-guy bonding thing," Ranma insisted, nodding firmly, "like how a dog likes to play tug-of-war with rope, you know? It's all just for fun."

Moka quirked an eyebrow. "Do you think he knows that?"

"I don't follow," Ranma replied.

"All right, that's enough time spent talking about that loser," Yukari declared as she clapped her hands. "Time to discuss what to do with his corpse."

The door immediately creaked open as Fran Madaraki poked her head in. "Have you considered donating it to science? The possible advancements in genetic biology with understanding of super-heated cells are-"

"She meant in the game," Kurumu deadpanned.

The school nurse withdrew without another word, closing the door shut behind her.

"So the lawyer croaked, and everybody sat around twiddling their thumbs and claiming ignorance when the police arrived."

"My manager wants bonus XP for convincing them it was a wolf attack despite flesh wounds clearly caused by a chainsaw," Moka said, "the other Moka thinks that rotting in jail is too good for Ranma, apparently."

"Fair enough. But being a lawyer, Gamaroshi had all the arrangements for his demise plotted out in advance, and the funeral is fast approaching."

"Funeral? What's that?" Kurumu asked, having never been exposed to the more morbid side of human culture.

"It's a ceremony performed for the friends and family of the recently deceased, to help them come to terms with the death of their loved ones," Tsukune explained.

"Tsukune is correct," Yukari confirmed, "it's a long, solemn procedure that involves blanketing the corpse in religious rites while family members reminisce about the deceased when they were still alive. It's an important part of the human tradition to reach closure with the ends of people's lives and accept the mortality of those around you."

Ranma raised an eyebrow. "So we're going to go to Kouma's funeral?"

"Close. Your first quest for today is to get OUT of going to Kouma's funeral," the young witch explained.

"Uh... Why?" Tsukune asked. "We were all his friends, weren't we?"

"Debatable. Also, regardless of your friendship with the lawyer, funerals are still long, boring, and really depressing affairs, and the miserly lawyer didn't provide for a wake."

"What's a wake?" Kurumu asked.

"It's a small party after the funeral, to help ease the depression of the entire process," Tsukune explained again.

"Again, our resident human expert is right," Yukari affirmed, "it's a short, cheerful procedure that involves catered dinners while everybody whispers to each other about how annoying the deceased really was now that the priest doing the ceremony is gone."

"Typical that he wouldn't bother with that part," Kurumu mumbled. "So what's the situation, exactly?"

"The elder Mister and Misses Gamaroshi have arrived at the house, both of them teary-eyed and almost hysterical as they rattle off the details of the funeral arrangements to your group."

"Ooh, this might be tough," Kurumu mumbled, crossing her arms under her breasts, "being a human isn't easy, is it?"

"My carpenter avoids eye contact at all costs," Ranma said.

"Why?" asked Tsukune.

"Well, I do feel a little responsible for his death, so I'd feel guilty blowing them off to their faces," Ranma explained.

"You were ENTIRELY responsible for his death," Moka deadpanned.

"Well, sure, but I don't feel that way," Ranma reasoned, "between urban wolf packs and shoddy chainsaw and washing machine construction, there's just enough blame to spread around."

"Well, my manager says up-front that she has an important financial meeting that day in America, so she won't even be in the country," Moka said, speaking for her evil side.

"Very well, roll a bluff check," Yukari requested.

Moka promptly rolled a D20, and winced as she got a 4. "Ah, with bonuses, that would be a... a 14?" She seemed surprised. "Oh, wow. Managers are really good liars."

"That they may be, but the parents seem skeptical. The father starts asking for troublesome details, like where in America you're going, and when exactly you'll be leaving."

Moka frowned and glanced down at her Rosario. "Why did you put so many points into lying and graft, anyway?" After a few seconds, she sighed. "My manager uses her Buzzword power to re-roll the check."

Moka rolled the die again, this time getting a 12.

"That would put you at a 22 then, which is plenty to convince them," Yukari said, "however, now they're badgering your nurse about her plans."

Moka suddenly brightened as she got an idea. "My manager says that my nurse is coming with her and staying at the same hotel to save money," she said as she rolled the D20 again.

"Why would your nurse go to America?" Yukari asked.

"Seeing as I got a 25, does it matter?" Moka replied.

"Hey, can she lie for me, too? I don't have any points in that skill," Kurumu begged.

"Ah, the other Moka says she doesn't want to lie for anyone else," the vampiress admitted.

"You mean anyone else other than you?" Ranma grumbled.

"Well, that doesn't really fit the definition of 'anyone else' when you really think about it..." Tsukune mumbled.

"Urgh... And after I did your laundry, too!" Kurumu complained. "What do I say? I'm totally free!"

"I've got this," Ranma said as he placed a reassuring hand on Kurumu's shoulder, "my carpenter draws his chainsaw."

Tsukune slapped a hand over his face. "Ranma, don't."

"No, no! Hear me out! I've got a good plan this time!" the martial artist insisted, "I turn toward the parents and offer to build them a coffin for free if they let me out of going to the funeral."

Yukari nodded. "Okay, make a negotiation roll, using the higher of your bluff and business sense skills."

"You're going to bribe them to get out of the funeral?" Moka asked, making a face.

"Better than just lying to them," Ranma reasoned as he threw the dice, rolling a 10. "I have an 11, total."

When he looked up, Ranma noticed that everyone looked shocked.

"You rolled a 10!"

"Your technique! It's undone!"

"Wait, is there something wrong with the die? Maybe he should get a do-over!"

A vein popped up on Ranma's head. "Nothing's wrong. I stopped using that other technique. Moka was right, in the end. I don't need to be always rolling 20s if the rest of the time is going to be 1s."

Tsukune looked relieved. "Oh, okay. So you're just rolling normally, now?"

"Nope! I have mastered Aono-fu!" Ranma said proudly, giving a thumbs-up. "The ability to be constantly average all the time!"

Although the girls seemed entirely satisfied with the proclamation, Tsukune groaned.

"Are you really going to call it that?" Tsukune asked, his face flushing in embarrassment.

"I know it doesn't make much sense, since the name implies that you're the master when you can't actually do it, but I couldn't think of a better name," Ranma explained.

"How about Lame-fu?" Yukari suggested.

"Well, that would suggest that the result was bad, not just average," Ranma countered.

"Generally unknown mid-combat technique: Beige Fist?" Yukari tried again.

"Like, instead of a secret final technique? It's not used for combat though," Ranma reasoned.

"Art of the Government Worker!"

Kurumu finally swatted Yukari in the face with her character sheet. "Get on with it, already!"

"All right, all right. The parents eagerly accept your offer," Yukari said, "being the parents of a lawyer, naturally their expenses take precedent over their late son's respect and image."

"See? Now if the mutt were here, right about now he'd be getting all mad and spraying us with magma-hot spittle. It's much nicer without him," Kurumu said with a smile.

"Well, I miss his angry retorts," Ranma grumbled sadly, "it reminds me of home. Except that here it isn't always followed by a beating."

"Let's leave it at that before we accidentally learn more about your horrid past, Senpai," Yukari interjected quickly, "it's kind of ruining the mood. Anyway, you've gotten out the funeral, but Kurumu has not."

"Oh, that's easy. She's helping too," Ranma said, "I need a maid's help with supplies and polishing and cleanup, so she's with me."

"Really?" Kurumu asked, surprised.

"Sure! Us working class people need to stick together!" Ranma said with a grin. "I need to make a roll for that, right?"

"Sure," Yukari said, "same check as before."

Ranma rolled his D20. It landed on 10.

"So, wait, why do you even bother to roll dice now if you've completely removed the random chance element of the game?" Moka asked, looking somewhat perturbed.

"Well, it's not TOTALLY a given that I'll roll a 10," Ranma admitted, "I might roll an 11. There is no exact middle number on a die, you know?"

Moka sighed and took out her own D20. "I need to make a roll to keep my manager from kicking him in the face. It's a twelve."

"You're fine. Well, in any case, you've successfully pulled Kurumu's maid to safety, in a manner of speaking. That just leaves Tsukune."

Ranma shrugged. "Sorry buddy, but I don't really need an accountant's help to make a coffin."

"It's fine," Tsukune said, "I wouldn't make the deal anyway. My accountant will attend the funeral."

The others gasped in shock.

"But you'll fail the quest!" Kurumu protested, "Tsukune, you need the experience! You'll never be able to get to the 'Controller' paragon path at this rate!"

"I think that showing respect to the memory of someone who died a painful and meaningless death is just more important than that," Tsukune reasoned.

"Are you seriously going to make me create a funeral scenario?" Yukari groaned.

"It can't be that hard. Besides, it's not like I have any convenient excu-"

Tsukune suddenly stopped speaking and blinked. "Hey! A kobold thief appeared!"

This caused everyone else to look at him strangely.

"Oh-kay... The parents don't seem to be buying that as a distraction. Although you can roll for it if you'd like" Yukari said.

"But I-"

"Tsukune, this isn't that kind of game," Ranma advised, "there are no kobolds."

"That's not-"

"Are you sure about that?" Kurumu asked, interrupting Tsukune again, "I mean, is it really possible that humans NEVER encounter kobolds? The little scaly buggers are everywhere. Maybe it's just a rare encounter."

"It wouldn't matter if they were," Yukari retorted, "because I'm the GM and I didn't say anything about kobolds."

"No, it's-"

"Wait, I think I understand!" Moka said suddenly, silencing Tsukune instantly. "This game is all about human life in the modern human world, right?"

"Yeah," replied Kurumu, "so?"

"Well, if it's modeled right, then that means that in addition to humans, there must also be monsters disguised as humans!" Moka theorized as Yukari facepalmed. "The humans just don't know about them!"

Kurumu snapped her fingers. "Oh, right! Just because monsters don't play an active role doesn't mean they don't exist! Good thinking!"

"So you're saying that there really is a disguised kobold thief right in front of us?" Ranma asked, scratching his head, "'Cause my chainsaw is still drawn."

"It's not disguised, and it's-"

Yukari cut off Tsukune this time. "No, there isn't! Even if that assumption were true, I'd still have to put those characters in the game myself! Tsukune can't just decide they're there!"

"She's got a point. Besides, how would Tsukune know how to tell a disguised monster from a human?" Ranma asked.

"Is there a feat for that? Check the rule book," Kurumu said.

Tsukune groaned as the others started rooting through the handbooks. "You know what? Never mind. Forget about it. I tried."

"Well, not very hard. That's not a convincing bluff," Yukari said. "Anyway, the phone rings. Tsukune answers it."

The young human looked surprised. "Oh, okay. Who's there?"

"It's your cousin, a young woman who was married and had a child several years ago," Yukari explained, "it seems she needs a babysitter on the same night that they're holding the funeral. It's too bad, but it seems like you won't be able to attend."

"But I wouldn't agree to babysit when one of my friend-"

"Put another way, you're going to complete the next quest since you seem insistent on ruining this one," Yukari deadpanned, "I'm not doing a funeral scene. Do you have any idea how boring that would be?"

"Given that doing laundry ended with one of us dying in an explosion of soap and metal, no, it's rather hard to predict what would be boring in this game," Tsukune reasoned, "but fine, if you don't want to do that, I'll take the babysitting job."

"Good. The parents finally leave, satisfied that they've done all they can do for their dear departed son," Yukari narrated.

"So I guess that means we're babysitting next, huh?" Kurumu asked as she reached for a cookie, only to realize belatedly that the bowl was empty. "Hey! Who took all the cookies?'

Tsukune sighed.

* * *

"Senpai, as you attach the lid to the coffin, the doorbell rings. It appears the brat is here," Yukari explained.

"All right, I'm almost done here," Ranma said, "I'm going to attach the crucifix to the top. Rolling to hammer it in."

Kurumu frowned as she watched Ranma toss a D20, which landed on 11. "You know, I didn't really consider this before, but this technique of yours really takes a lot out of the game."

Ranma frowned. "You think so?"

"Rather than that," Tsukune began, "if you can somehow manage to roll 10's and 11's all the time, what's stopping you from making a technique to just roll 20's constantly?"

"You wouldn't understand," Ranma insisted, "it's a principle of martial arts roleplaying. The use of ki to manage luck is just unstable like that."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Moka said bluntly, "really, I think we all lost a batch of brain cells just listening to it."

Tsukune looked taken aback by the scathing criticism. "That... That was Evil Moka just now, right? She did that thing where she suddenly speaks through you?"

Moka suddenly looked embarrassed. "Yes, it was! I'm sorry, I didn't mean that!"

_'Hey! That wasn't me! You liar!'_ Evil Moka complained.

'Oh, hush. You were thinking it too.'

"So is anybody going to get the door?" Yukari asked.

Tsukune sighed. "All right, I'll-"

"My manager pushes Tsukune's accountant aside and reaches the door ahead of her," Moka said suddenly, though she looked uncertain about interrupting Tsukune. "She answers it first."

Tsukune looked confused, but fell silent as Yukari responded.

"All right, when you open the door you see that there are two unfamiliar people who look somewhat similar to Tsukune's accountant, plus a little boy. The father-"

"My manager promptly grabs the kid, says 'see you tonight,' and then pulls the boy inside before slamming the door shut and locking it," Moka said, looking quite confused but seeing no obvious reason not to relay her inner self's intentions.

"Uh... Okay, then. The child, who can't be more than eight years old, looks up at you, his eyes bright and full of wonder. 'Wow, you're really pretty,' he says, 'I'm Shutarou, what's your name?'"

Moka flushed and smiled as she imagined the scene in her head. "Aw, that's sweet!"

_'He was talking to me, not you. We're different people in this, remember?'_ Evil Moka mentioned.

'Oh, so what? We're still... Wait, what's your manager's name?' Moka thought back.

Evil Moka's tone, insofar as one was possible via telepathy, was indignant. _'It's Moka, of course. Everybody is using their own names for this, remember?'_

'Then what does that make me?'

_'A wallflower, just like usual.'_

Everyone waited patiently as Moka suddenly made an irritated face, and then the vampiress turned a strained smile toward Yukari.

"My manager tells the little boy, 'My name is Evil Moka. It might sound like a strange name, but it's quite appropriate.'"

_'When I finally kill the hippy, I'm definitely not sharing his things with your character,'_ Evil Moka said bitterly.

"Well, we'll have to leave the babysitting to you and the bloodsuckers," Ranma said as he placed a hand on Tsukune's shoulder, "me and Kurumu have a coffin to finish."

"Hey, if this babysitting thing is happening at the same time as the funeral, then isn't a little late for us to provide materials for it anyway?" Kurumu asked, scratching her head, "what's with this timing?"

Yukari suddenly rolled a D8. "Your maid slips on some sawdust and bangs the back of her head on the floor, suffering 6 damage."

"What? Hey! I was just standing there!" Kurumu complained.

"Sawdust can be quite dangerous on a wooden floor. You should probably start sweeping it up rather than undermining the plot," Yukari said with a bemused expression on her face.

The succubus fumed, but reluctantly recorded the damage and then mumbled, "My maid starts sweeping."

"Good. Tsukune, Moka, Evil Moka, what's happening?"

"Well, I should probably put on a movie or something for Shutarou, right?" Tsukune asked.

Moka looked perplexed. "My manager, um... wants to convert Shutarou."

Her expression was soon matched by everyone else's.

"Convert him? Convert him to what?" Yukari asked.

"A... suicide death cult?" Moka asked, looking somewhat horrified once she realized she had said that out loud and divulged Evil Moka's intentions. "No! Wait, my manager doesn't do that! That's terrible!"

"Roll to resist corrupting the youth for your own ends," Yukari demanded.

Moka nervously rolled the D20, and a sweatdrop rolled down her head as it came up 3.

"Well, it looks like someone is adopting a new god tonight," Yukari said with a smirk.

"Wait! Can't my nurse stop her somehow?" Moka asked in a panic.

"I don't see how. She killed four wolves with a pair of letter openers," Kurumu muttered, "I wouldn't wanna mess with that."

"Moka, what does Evil Moka want to say, specifically?" Yukari asked.

Moka groaned as she held her forehead. "She says, 'Shutarou, your parents are heathens denying you entrance to paradise by selfishly hiding the truth. Eternity exists only in service to me, EVIL Moka,'" the vampiress ground out, putting a great deal of emphasis on 'evil' before she rolled her D20 again.

"A 6! There's no way that's good enough, right?" Moka asked hopefully, "not for such a ridiculous lie!"

"Isn't lying her best skill?" Ranma asked.

Yukari shrugged. "In any case, Shutarou's wonder-filled eyes are now filled with fanatical devotion to you, his goddess, and he promptly gets on his knees to bow in feverish worship as he sings your praises."

"That was quick. Some parents have to spend years turning their kids into religious nuts," Kurumu noted.

"Well, I think our GM is drawing from personal experience, here," Ranma said, "can you help me polish the coffin exterior now?"

Tsukune sighed. "We're going to fail this quest too, aren't we? We only get experience for completing the quest if the kid is ALIVE at the end of the night."

"Evil Moka says that success in life is the same as success in business; it's about risks and rewards," Moka said wearily, "and she gives Shutarou one of her letter openers before consecrating him in preparation for him to carry out her EVIL will."

"Uh oh," Ranma mumbled, "buff faster, Kurumu! We don't have much time!"

"Buffing faster!" Kurumu shouted as she rolled her dice. "Drat! A 4! No good!"

Tsukune rolled his eyes. "All right, that's enough. My accountant interposes herself between Shutarou and Evil Moka, and demands that the manager stop corrupting him!"

Yukari kept a carefully neutral expression as she nodded. "I see. Moka, what does your manager do?"

"She backs down and apologizes for what she tried to do!" Moka said firmly.

"Moka, you already failed your roll to resist evil. What does your manager do?" Yukari asked again.

Moka winced. "She uses her kickback power on Tsukune."

"Moka, we already went over this. That isn't an attack," Tsukune said.

"She knows. She's bribing you not to interfere," Moka mumbled.

"All right, Moka, make an attack roll. Tsukune, you have to make a will save equal to or greater than the attack roll to resist doing what she says," Yukari explained.

"Oh for the love of..." Tsukune grumbled as he rolled his D20, "I got a 12."

"I rolled a 9, so with my bonuses that's a 14," Moka explained.

"Tsukune, what's your bonus?" Yukari asked. "If it's two or more, you resist the Power of Money."

"I don't have any bonus," Tsukune grumped.

"Really? I would've thought that an accountant would have good mental stats. What's your wisdom score?" Yukari asked.

"It's ten. Same as all my ability scores," Tsukune explained somewhat morosely.

"You... rolled a perfectly average character?" Kurumu asked, looking quite perplexed.

"As expected of the origin of Aono-fu," Ranma said sagely, "it seems I have much to learn."

"So, I guess this means I have to back down?" Tsukune asked, looking none too pleased about it.

Yukari rolled some dice while writing on a notepad out of view of the players. After several seconds, she looked up. "Actually, no. You don't obey Moka's Evil will."

Moka sighed in relief as her inner self started grumbling to herself. "Because the purity of her soul and good will boosted her resistance?"

"No because Shutarou backstabbed her while she was distracted by the wad of money for daring to oppose his goddess," Yukari explained, much to the players' shock, "you take 24 damage."

"Wh-What? That's more than my hit point total!" Tsukune complained, his eyes bugging out.

_'Huh. Didn't see that one coming,'_ Evil Moka thought. _'Your nurse can fix stab wounds, right?'_

"My nurse rushes over to stop the bleeding!" Moka shouted in alarm.

"Wait, Moka, you should be careful of-" Ranma started to speak before Yukari rolled her D20 again.

"Immediately deciding you're an enemy, Shutarou goes for your nurse's throat," Yukari said.

"Why isn't Evil Moka stopping him?" Tsukune asked.

_'Good idea. My manager tells the squirt to stand down,' _Evil Moka decided.

"My manager tells Shutarou to stop!" Moka shouted desperately.

"Sorry Moka, you already failed your roll to misrepresent Evil Moka's decisions," Yukari apologized as she rolled the D20 again. "Ouch, a critical! Your nurse is down and she's not getting up again."

"But I wasn't lying this time!" Moka protested.

"I can't know that, so I'm going to have to rule in favor of destructive impulses, which in this case means killing everyone in the manager's way," Yukari explained, shrugging.

_'Well, well, well, look who just swallowed a big fat spoonful of irony. Does it taste bitter? Hmm?'_ Evil Moka asked as Moka covered her face with her hands.

"Man, kids these days sure are brutal. MY Pop taught me never to go straight for the throat when ambushing someone," Ranma said, shaking his head.

Kurumu tsked. "I blame the video games."

"Why aren't you two helping?" Tsukune asked, though his voice had lost any semblance of outrage and just sounded tired.

"We're almost done with the coffin," Ranma said, "but we can't rush this without compromising the quality. Kouma was my friend and I'm going to give him the best coffin I can build."

"Why don't you stop the kid and THEN finish the coffin?" the younger human demanded.

Ranma blinked. "That's... really the kind of quick thinking and common sense you should have used when you were alive and conscious."

"Yeah, we could have saved your life!" Kurumu agreed.

_'Well, no helping it now. It's too bad we have to kill the carpenter now, though,'_ Evil Moka mused.

'Why is that too bad? Isn't killing him the reason you did this in the first place?' Moka thought bitterly.

_'Yes, but now we're going to have far more bodies than coffins,'_ Evil Moka explained, _'hmn. If I hadn't used up my kickback power then I could bribe him to build more first... Oh well.'_

"Moka, Shutarou awaits your Evil orders, his hands slick with the blood of heretics," Yukari said.

"My carpenter draws his chainsaw," Ranma said, "Kurumu, try sweeping a cloud of dust at the kid when he lunges. I'll follow up."

"Are we going to get in trouble for killing the child we're supposed to be babysitting?" Kurumu asked.

"Don't know. Our lawyer's dead," Ranma said, "but given that we've also lost Tsukune and Normal Moka, we're kind of already in trouble."

"My manager uses her Pay For Performance power to boost Shutarou," Moka said in a monotone, tossing her character sheet over her shoulder.

_'Oh, don't be such a buzzkill. This is a game! Have a little fun! I'm going to have plenty of chances to kill Ranma, you know, but this might be your only one!'_

"All right, let's go!" Kurumu said, tossing her D20, "for Tsukune!"

Yukari frowned. "Kurumu, you're straight. Re-roll that and shout something else."

"Aw, damn it! But I got a 16!" the succubus complained as she rolled the die again. "Then, for getting blood and corpses all over the floor right after cleaning day, I will punish you! Bleagh. A 7."

"It'll have to do!" Ranma said as he rolled his own die. "An 11! That makes my total attack score 15! Suck chainsaw, brat!"

"As the way of sawdust blows toward him, Shutarou leaps into the air, landing on his hands and then flipping over Senpai's attack to end up behind the both of you. Then he slashes for Senpai's back."

Yukari rolled her D20, apparently ignoring Ranma's perplexed expression. "Ah. A 4."

Kurumu sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. My maid-"

"Wait, is an 18 too low to hit you? Yukari asked Ranma, causing the martial artist's eyes to bug out.

"18? How is this brat so strong?" Ranma demanded.

Yukari looked a bit embarrassed as she explained, "Well, in order to make him hard to deal with during the babysitting quest, I gave him a lot of skills and feats. But the only way to make the stats honest was to start him out at level 16. Of course, that also means he's really hard to hit and gets crazy attack bonuses. In addition to Evil Moka's buff. Didn't really think that would come up, but here we are."

"That's completely unreasonable!" Kurumu said, throwing up her arms.

"And unnecessary, apparently. The only thing he's used so far is the 'Why Can't I Run With Scissors?' feat. By the way, Senpai, you take 9 damage."

"Damn it! I attack again!" Ranma said as he rolled the die. "Another 11!"

"Another miss," Yukari deadpanned.

Everyone was silent for a moment as they stared at Ranma.

"If you it didn't hit the last time, and your technique makes you roll the same thing every time, why would you keep using it?" Tsukune asked, "I mean, logically, if you can be sure you'd never roll higher than an 11, why would you bother?"

"Ah, so you've already discovered the weakness of Aono-fu. As expected of an accountant," Ranma murmured.

"I think we've all realized it by now," Moka deadpanned, "why don't you just roll the dice normally?"

"What, like a n00b? No way will I disgrace my sensei like that!" Ranma proclaimed.

"Okay, so he stabbed you again, so you take 8 damage," Yukari noted as she made the damage rolls.

"It's fine," Ranma said as he wrote down the damage, "I'm still alive, and I go before him. I'll use crit or miss, and then use the power I gained with proficiency: Chinese martial arts to get a free attack. Then, I'll-"

Moka suddenly spoke, "My manager charges with her other letter opener," she said despondently.

Yukari blinked. "Oh! Right! Kind of forgot that she was still there. Go ahead."

Ranma blinked. "What? Hey, wait a minute! If she suddenly gets a turn, what about Kurumu?"

The succubus winced. "You think I wanna end up as a coat? I'm not getting in her way!"

"What? But she'll-" Ranma was cut off as he watched Moka's D20 land on an 18.

"Okay, and for damage..." Moka sighed as the D6 came to a stop, "9 damage total. Sorry, Ranma."

_'Can you tell him I'm not sorry? I want to make sure he knows I'm not sorry,'_ Evil Moka asked, her mental voice practically giddy.

'I'm sure he knows,' Moka thought back bitterly.

Ranma stared down at his character sheet for several seconds, and then shoved it to the side as rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his palm. "Oh, whatever. This game is stupid, anyway."

"Come on, Senpai. Don't get all pouty because you lost at something," Yukari chided.

"No, actually, he's right. This game is really stupid," Tsukune agreed. "Its premise is stupid, its rules are stupid, and - no offense, Yukari - this campaign has been stupid. Exploding laundry machines? Wolf attacks in the middle of cities? Children in deadly assassin cults?"

"Hey, I wasn't responsible for most of that last one!" Yukari protested.

"It was still pretty stupid, is my point," Tsukune reiterated.

_'If it was so stupid, why did it work, eh? Can you tell him that?'_

'No, I won't tell him that,' Moka thought firmly.

_'You know what? I don't even care. I killed Ranma Saotome! That's plenty satisfying on its own!'_ Evil Moka said telepathically, sounding delighted.

'You killed an imaginary carpenter who he happened to control,' Moka thought back, 'who, by the way, never did anything to you!'

_'Same difference. Now all that's left is to finish off the maid.'_

'Why?' Moka demanded. She had tried to express horror through the telepathic link, but given how the session had been progressing she hadn't been able to summon up any genuine surprise. 'You killed Ranma, and you said that you didn't mean to kill the others, why can't Kurumu live?'

_'Well, obviously, she might report me to the police. Also, I never liked how she's always flaunting how she has more "charisma" than me.'_

Moka frowned. 'Our charisma scores are the same.'

_'Yeah, I'm not talking about the game.'_

Moka almost growled as she suddenly spoke up, silencing an argument between Yukari and Tsukune about the progression rates of different cancers.

"My manager turns toward Kurumu, her letter opener in one hand, and beckons to Shutarou with her other hand. She says, 'It's regretful things had to turn out like this, but it's time that you too learned your place, servant.'"

Kurumu grit her teeth as she gripped her character sheet tightly. "Oh, really? You think I don't know my place? I'll show you exactly where 'my place' is!"

The succubus turned toward Yukari. "GM! Do I need to roll anything to change religions?"

Yukari blinked. "No."

"Good! Then my maid drops to her knees and prostrates herself before her new goddess, the management guru Evil Moka!" Kurumu said firmly and without a hint of shame.

"Kurumu! What the hell?" Ranma demanded.

"She killed wolves and she killed YOU. What am I gonna do, smack her with my broom? I'm getting in this cult thing early while I still have all my hit points," Kurumu said shamelessly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure Kouma gets your coffin."

"And what about MY funeral?" Ranma demanded.

"Well, I'm pretty sure cleaning up the corpses so that nobody can find them is going to be my first service to my new religion. It's going to be a long time until anyone knows you're dead."

"Evil Moka wants you to know that she is pleased, Kurumu, and that she forgives you for always flaunting all your extra charisma in front of her," Moka said in a deadpan voice.

"I thought our charisma scores were the same," Kurumu said, quirking an eyebrow.

"I wish," the vampiress mumbled as she stared down at her chest.

_'Well, this is a surprise! What a lovely ending! I think I might like this game!'_ Evil Moka thought with a mental laugh.

"Moka, Shutarou returns to and bows, asking if it is time to for you to shed this mortal shell and ascend to paradise," Yukari said suddenly.

Inside Moka's head, the laughter slowly trailed off into a confused mumble.

"What's this about shedding shells?" Ranma asked.

"Well, she did say a SUICIDE death cult. What did you think was going to happen after she murdered everyone else?" the young witch asked.

_'Huh. I forgot about that part. Well, let's get the brat to go first,'_ Evil Moka decided.

'You are the WORST babysitter,' Moka quipped in her head before she spoke. "Evil Moka wants Shutarou to go first. Rolling to convince him... it's a 13."

Yukari shook her head, much to Moka's surprise. "Shutarou looks quite doubtful as you make your case, and responds by saying, 'But my goddess, without your holy presence to guide me, how will I know the way?'"

_'Precocious little runt, isn't he?'_

'He stabbed three adults to death. I don't think "precocious" really covers it,' Moka thought wryly.

_'Okay, let's hold on and think about this. He's still fanatically loyal to me, and I have high negotiation skills. Maybe if I try-'_

Moka suddenly spoke, her eyes narrowing. "My manager, enraged that her pawn would dare defy her, attacks Shutarou."

_'HEY! I did NOT do that!' _Evil Moka complained.

'I'm sorry, what? I can't make out what you're saying, I think I'm getting bad reception,' Moka thought as she poked at the Rosario, a vein bulging on the side of her head.

Yukari nodded. "Right. Shutarou prepares to defend. Roll initiative."

"My maid hides in the broom closet," Kurumu said, "and listens carefully for the sound of combat to stop."

"You know, I really have to take this situation against the theory of the game," Tsukune said while Moka and Yukari continued rolling in their one-on-one combat, "a little kid killing four adults just doesn't happen in the human world. Not during a babysitting, at least!"

Ranma grunted. "Probably true. I've only seen these things happen in school."

"You've seen a kid around here who's that dangerous?" Kurumu asked.

"No, no, I was talking about my human school," Ranma corrected, waving his hand in front of him. "This one little girl was a real pain in the ass. Never killed anyone, but she would knock out entire classes at once some days."

"Ranma, I really wish you wouldn't undermine my idea of reality faster than Youkai Academy does," Tsukune mumbled, massaging his temples.

"Then you should probably never bring up the elderly when I'm within earshot," Ranma noted, "the stories I have would BREAK you."

"Ah! Darn! It looks like my manager is at 0 HP!" Moka said with mock concern. "It seems she's been laid low by her own violent, short-sighted scheme! And there's no NURSE to help her, either!"

_'See, now why do you have to be like that?'_ Evil Moka asked, _'I had ascended to being an object of worship, the most annoying man I've ever met had died painfully, and everybody was having a good time. And now it's ruined.'_

'You got everyone except Kurumu killed! Nobody was having fun except you! And maybe Yukari. She keeps giggling when she thinks nobody's looking.'

_'It was all to kill Ranma! You can't tell me that wasn't worth it!'_

'It wasn't worth it!'

_'You used to be cool.'_

Yukari spoke up after she finally finished recording her notes. "And so Evil Moka, business manager, has fallen to a glorified quest item! Kurumu, make a stealth roll as he searches for new victims."

The succubus gulped as she rolled her die. "Is a 17 enough?"

"Okay. Shutarou pouts as he fails to find anyone else, and promptly gets bored of playing assassin. Also seeing that all the blood is starting to slick up the floor, he decides to leave the house. Kurumu, you hear a distant click as the front door opens and then the sound of it closing."

"Wait... playing assassin? He was just playing?" Tsukune said, gaping.

"Well, you didn't seriously think a level 2 manager could really control a level 16 character, did you?" Yukari scoffed. "He was just playing around."

Moka winced as her head was suddenly bombarded with angry profanities from within.

"He killed four people!" Tsukune protested, slamming his hands on the table.

"No wonder his parents were so keen to get rid of him for a weekend," Ranma said, "they didn't even come back after some stranger snatched him up and slammed the door in their faces."

"So... does this mean I win the game?" Kurumu asked cautiously.

Yukari scratched her head. "Well... In theory, no, but seeing how you're the only survivor of the household, it's hard to really argue otherwise."

The succubus cheered, throwing her arms up into the air (and incidentally treating the boys to a lovely view of her bouncing cleavage). "Yes! I won!"

Ranma snorted as he got up to leave. "Spoony maid."

Adventures in Tabletop Gaming: Session Complete  
Evil Moka is hereby banned from game night. - Tsukune Aono  
Chapter End


	2. Arachnophobia

Big Human on Campus  
After School Sessions  
by Black Dragon

Disclaimer: I'd like to give a serious disclaimer with a serious warning this time, though not for legal reasons. This is easily the most experimental chapter I've ever written, and will contain awkward metaphors, dark and gory arthropodal violence, a more philosophical level of irony than usual, and most disturbing of all, first-person perspective. It is radically different from anything I've written before. There are none of the usual shenanigans to be found here, though people still seem to find it funny. You have been warned.

Session 2  
Arachnophobia

* * *

My name is Guile.

And I crawl with the gods.

As the new day dawns, I force myself from my rest, the cold, musty morning air wafting through the window and through the silk weavings that make up my web. It is not easy to rouse myself, and I feel the weight of my gleaming black armor as heavily as ever as I slowly work my way down the web to the shaped, unnatural wood that makes up the ground in this place.

Yes, unnatural wood. It is flat, almost perfectly so, and curiously free of bark or other creatures. Nothing like natural wood, and yet, seemingly of the same material.

It is one of the lesser miracles when one lives among gods.

As I move slothfully toward completing my morning supplication, I pass another of our kind, the Chosen: Ryu. He is young, and yet is larger than I, his armor a mottled green to help hide in jungle canopies, and his size nearly half that of the apes that his breed sometimes preys on in those lands. Being bigger than I, he feels the cold even more intensely, and it saps his strength too much for him to carry out services in the morning. Cammy is of the opinion he lacks sufficient zeal for a Chosen, and she may be right, but I prefer to leave such judgments to the gods themselves. I leave him be.

As I do every morning, I approach the pair of tubs sitting on the ground beneath the nest of a god. As I do every morning, I strike each one and issue a warning to any of our brethren who sleep within.

My choler rises as I see two young ones, barely more than broodlings, scuttle out of one of the tubs.

"Little fools! Where is your sense?" I snap at the younglings as they scamper away for the webbings toward the window. "Do you wish to be crushed? If so I will do it myself so you don't trouble our master!"

The younglings aren't listening, I'm sure, in their mad crawl for safety, for they have not yet Learned. They are ignorant, feral creatures guided more by instinct than information and decision. I was like them once. Most of us still are.

I have seen them before, but they do not have names. None of our kind have names, save the Chosen, for it is the mark of being favored by the gods, a divine badge granted to those that have properly served our lord and master and Learned from him. It is proof of our devotion, and highly coveted.

Attaching a thread to the tubs with my hindmost legs, I start to crawl up the construct that makes up the god's nest. It too is made of the unnatural wood at the bottom, though higher up it is covered by a treacherously soft material I've never encountered outside the gods' lands. There are many such materials, and it never ceases to amaze me.

Nonetheless, it is hardly so magnificent as a god itself.

I step carefully as I cross the nest, aware that underneath the soft covering the god slumbers. This one is not our master, and yet I am still in awe of him every time I approach with my supplication, my body filling with the vitality of his aura that seeps up into my legs from the nest below. I stop when I find a good place to drop off the god's tubs, which they use as some sort of removable armor for their feet. It is my supplication to deliver them to this lesser god every morning, and though I would rather serve the master, I still revel in a task that brings me so close to one of the gods.

Gods are enormous beings, with soft skin and incomplete patches of hair. Their anatomy is cumbersome, they are slow, and they walk clumsily on two limbs while neglecting their other two, which makes them very poor climbers. They are bizarre, hideous creatures, and yet they are wondrous, miraculous beings.

For you see, the gods CREATE.

Oh, sure, our kind can make webs. We can build burrows, construct vast nets, and create a complex array of traps that can confound prey and enemies while being comfortable living space for us. That is a pitiful display before the great constructs of the gods.

Gods create massive citadels of alien materials, smooth and unnatural, a single one of which could host dozens of broods. These incredible burrows spring up from the ground like trees, and are perfectly shielded from wind, rain, and the winged ones that prey on our smaller kin. They can host a variety of different environments, and are warm even in the dead of winter. Truly they are the dwellings of the divine, and the creatures that constructed them the masters of this world.

Disconnecting my tether to the god's foot armor, I start to make my way from his nest, when the god stirs.

I freeze in place, for I do not wish to startle him. It is well known that gods are fickle creatures, and they will crush us when displeased, which, judging by the startling frequency of such incidents, is most of the time.

Not this god, though. As his strange, lidded eyes open, his face shifts and mutates in ways that used to make me tremble in disgust. He moves slowly and deliberately to extract himself from his nest without touching me. While this god is familiar with the Chosen and tolerates our presence, he does not gift us easily with his touch.

He speaks as he stands up from the nest, his melodious voice filling the air with a range of sounds I cannot hope to comprehend. It is their language, and it is beautiful to behold. My name comes from their language, a mesh of sounds so complex and otherworldly that my kind could not hope to utter it. Guile. I cannot begin to imagine what it means, but it sets my abdomen quivering with joy every time I hear it.

The god puts on his foot armor, apparently pleased with my supplication. At first he was quite displeased with my presence, his body spewing scents of hate and fear. But thanks to my services, he has accepted us under him, and through service to him I serve the master.

My morning task completed, I begin to crawl down from the nest, when a shift in air currents reveals that the giant trapdoor that resides on one end of the gods' residence has opened. And as I gaze through my left eyes a feeling of excitement and devotion pumps new energy into my thick, spine-covered legs.

It is our lord, and my master.

* * *

Master is a curious god, even by the standards of such incredible beings. He has the same absurd anatomy, and has the same armor that can be removed at will - presumably when it becomes damaged, as often happens with Master - but aside from that, he is decidedly superior. His speed and agility would astound coming from any creature, but far more so from one of the clumsy gods, and his aura - the waves of warmth that emanate from gods and many furry beasts - reinforces his musk of power and superiority with a primal, otherworldly energy that seeps into the bodies of his followers, imbuing us with strength and wisdom. He can perform many physical feats that other gods cannot, and most interestingly, he can change his body. He has only changed to a different kind of god, as far as I've seen, one of the shorter ones with lumpy thoraxes, but I imagine this is only the surface of his power.

But most importantly, Master was the first of the gods to approach us and brand us his servants.

As I said, gods are fickle creatures, and their temperments vary considerably. The shorter ones with the lumpy thoraxes tend to smell of fear and avoid our kind, while the less lumpy, taller ones are often aggressive and take deadly offense to our intrusions of their citadels. There are tales of others, too, that catch our kind and take us away, still alive, to some unknown fate. Perhaps to be eaten, or toyed with.

Master, though, came to us with a purpose. He desired servants. He spoke to us without fear, without aggression, and despite our own trepidation and poor understanding, swiftly brought us to Enlightenment and united us under his service and those of his other servants. Surely He is the greatest of the gods, and it has been the highest honor of my kind to serve Him.

He calls to me, my name resonating deeply as I listen for those few scraps of the gods' dialect that I know as commands. Immediately I rush to Him, eager to serve.

With a movement that doubtless seems calm and casual to Master but is dizzying to me, His upper limb sweeps down and takes me by the thorax before dropping me atop His own thorax, next to His head. It is awkward, as I am bigger than Master's head myself, and there is little room for me, so I slip down the back of His armor, clinging to the strange material that shields the gods from their enemies.

My lord speaks to His godly underling as I settle ontoHis back, feeling new strength seep into me from Master's divine aura.

Soon both gods leave their nest-complex and enter the adjacent citadel, embarking on a quest relating to their own unfathomable goals. I ride along on Master's back, uncertain. Happy though I am to be so close to my lord, He often takes us along without requiring our services, and I wonder where I will end up.

As we advance through the mighty labrynth of gods, I see the approach of several familiar creatures, all of them more or less lumpy and rich with mating scents.

I will probably not be necessary, then. The false gods are here.

* * *

The false gods require some explanation, but they are not as mysterious as they seem.

Just as the gods gather together in their great colonies, so too do these other beasts that seek to imitate the gods.

There are all manner of creatures that walk and speak like the gods, but they are not gods. They differ in various ways; many of them are different in body, but none come close to the gods in their mentalities. These false gods are beasts, killers, hunters, destroyers. Our kind encounter them frequently in the wild corners of this world. They do not create. They merely fight, and eat, and breed just like us and the other beasts, all the while looking upon the gleaming colonies of the gods with fear, envy, and hate.

And then they come here, their jealousy having driven them to imitate the gods.

As Master and His underling speak, the lumpy ones break into two groups, practically spitting pheromone. I can tell at a glance that none of them are gods, their visual facades failing to trick any of my other senses. The lumpiest one strokes my carapace as she rubs her swollen thorax over the smaller god, and though I don't find her touch unpleasant, her mating scent is by far the strongest, irritating my feelers with a musk that does not arouse me. The one behind her smells of blood despite her unthreatening nature, and a bizarre and repellant energy surrounds her.

One of the false gods crowding master reaches to stroke me, and I scuttle to the side, under Master's arm. That one's touch I DO dislike, as it saps the heat from my body faster than Master's presence can replenish it.

The only one of the false gods that could pass for a real one would be the short, least lumpy one. But even that one, like a god in most respects, fails in its mimicry, as each time I am brought within a leg's distance of her body I feel an almost electric sensation surrounding her, always sitting on the edge of my senses regardless of her scent. I know not what it is, only that gods do not have it, and for this she is a lesser being, one step too far from the gods.

The false gods finally finish fawning upon my lord and His lackey, and they all start moving again with Master taking the lead, as is right and normal.

As we descend through the citadels and various trapdoors - installing them on walls rather than the ground is a habit of the gods I don't think I'll ever figure out - we encounter many more false gods, all of them greeting Master and His followers with mild bursts of fear and joy. And why not? For Master is the ruler of these poor, pitiful creatures as well, and their teacher.

Yes, that's right. All these pathetic beasts come to this place to learn the ways of the gods from Master.

In this way my kind are superior to them, for we have realized our limitations and found a place by Master's side as His servants. Instead these other beasts, perhaps emboldened by their mastery of the gods' language, seek to live among them and bask in their glory while masquerading as equals.

Fools.

Yet Master tolerates their immature ambitions, within limits. Many times He has had to discipline a false god that got too greedy and challenged Him.

His discipline of the bloody-smelling silver-haired one was particularly fun. She learned her place well enough.

It isn't long before I've lost track of where Master has taken me. The citadels here, although not many, are more than big enough for me to lose my way. It will not be a problem so long as I stay with Master, but still it makes me uncomfortable to be so far from my place of duty.

The false gods began to leave, hopefully to muse on whatever wisdom Master deigned to share with them. I look down on the jealous savages, but at the same time must recognize that it is only natural for such insolent creatures to look upon magnificence and wish to possess it. Perhaps in time they will come to understand their place in the world, like our kind have.

I doubt it, though. Oh! The bloody-smelling one is feeding on the smaller god. Insolent grub. Why do they allow her to live? Truly the depths of mercy and understanding of the gods is beyond us lesser beings.

* * *

Master seems almost totally unaware of my presence now as He begins His craft, speeding through the citadel and lecturing the false gods on their obvious inferiority. Often with His fists. Although I am proud to be chosen as His companion for His work in bringing Enlightenment to the worthless beasts masquerading as gods, it seems after all that I can be of no use to Him, and this agitates me.

For there is work to be done that Master is not necessarily aware of...

Fists. Hands. Those things at the end of the gods' limbs. I mentioned them earlier. Out of all the things repulsive about the gods' physical form, it must be those that are the most... wrong. Rather than splendid, tapered limbs that can hook firmly into any surface, their uppermost limbs end in numerous smaller appendages that squirm and writhe about with shocking and frightening dexterity, as if it was one of our kind. They have them on the rear limbs too, though those don't move as much. The ultimate impression is of one of our kind attached to each limb, melted together at the ends of some enormous body... truly a horrifying creature, by any measure, and then there are all those lumps...

Taken far from my familiar territory and with nothing to do, I had very nearly fallen asleep on Master's back when a familiar noise brings me to attention.

"If you'd just bite the moron, then I could finish him off and we'd all be better off, you know," came a voice from in front of Master, opposite my position on His back, "damn beasts may as well be sheep rather than spiders."

The voice was speaking in our way, but it is far too complex to understand precisely. Although I already know who was addressing me, I crawled over Master's shoulder, gripping his shoulder tightly as I locked gazes with another of the false gods.

Well, not just a false god. The demi-god, Keito.

There are those among the false gods that are indisputably similar to our kind, but much larger and capable of taking on the gods' form and speaking their language. They're known as demi-gods. Keito is one of them.

I would dearly like to end my explanation of her there, but circumstances likely will not be so kind.

"Look at you, like a faithful dog tethered to his master. Revolting. Has he trained the predator completely out of you?" Keito snapped at me. I could only make out the gist of what she was saying to me; the demi-gods can speak as we do, yet they do so in ways that are far more complicated and lengthy, and most of the time all but the basic idea is lost to our understanding. I assume it is because imitating gods for so long has corrupted their minds, or perhaps it is simply their way of holding their nearly-divine status over us lesser beasts.

Either way, I do not appreciate being asked to slay my lord and master.

"You again? Why does Master not tire of your existence? Surely His patience must be boundless to have suffered both you and the bloody-smelling one for so long." I'm not sure if Keito understands me any further than I understand her, honestly. It depends on which, if either, theory is correct.

She understands enough though, and her face does that odd thing that the gods do while they're ejecting a certain emotional scent. Master has started speaking to her though, so she has to stop focusing on me and pay attention if she doesn't want her fangs torn out and shoved through her heart.

The scent of hatred fills the air as Master and Keito speak. Exciting though it is, I know full well that such tension will never reach a breaking point before Keito backs down, for the demi-god also smells thickly of fear. She is smart, and seems to know precisely the limits of Master's seemingly inexhaustible patience.

I retreat back behind Master once again as they continue arguing, having no patience for the demi-god. Their kind is strange indeed, choosing to be false gods, and as such they suffer just as the other false gods do, doomed to be forever within view of true divinity but never within reach of it. Some of them are driven mad by such jealousy, it would seem. That's certainly the only explanation for Keito's hatred for Master.

Some of our kind revere the demi-gods as being the future of our race, stealing divinity from the gods and ascending. Those of us who are Enlightened know this is rubbish. They are pretenders and hopeless weaklings, no different from any other false god save for the fact that we can speak to them on some level.

"Ah, you are here after all. Good. All is as I've forseen it," speaks a voice from up above, startling me out of my brooding. Soon I see it in the view of my right-topmost eye, a brightly colored red figure descending from a hole in the ceiling.

"Cammy. You call for me?" I ask, dismissing the presence of the demi-god harrassing Master entirely.

"Yes, Guile. Come with me. There is a matter for which we require our warriors, and Master can care for himself for now." Though the names of the Chosen are impronouncable to us, pride in our station compels us to try. At the very least the short, bizarre sounds are unique enough not to be mistaken for other words and confuse communication, so they work well enough as forms of address.

Though my body only reluctantly leaves the wash of power that is Master's divine aura, my sense of duty to my lord knows no such hesitation. Cammy is well-regarded as the wisest of the Chosen, and her goals unerringly serve master's aims. She is our taskmaster, and our seer.

Although if you were to ask me, that "farsight" of hers is complete nonsense.

Cammy touches the floor, her long, spindly legs quickly making purchase and scuttling toward the wall. "Come with me. We have much to discuss."

Cammy reaches a portion of the wall made of the gods' hard, shiny material, but with slits cut into it. With a brief hiss she commands the keeper, and the panel swings open, pushed by a great brown leg.

We crawl into the wall, losing sight of Master and the insolent pretender. The passage is narrow, and both the gate keeper and I are large enough to that I nearly entangle my legs with his as I crawl by. Others populate the passage, but they are far smaller, mostly younglings and probably of Cammy's brood. They like the warm air in this place and dislike the light that comes from the Gods' artificial suns, it seems.

We emerge from the passage into a larger room, this one covered in layers of webbing. Cammy's nest.

The gods have abandoned this room, it seems, and us Chosen have made it one of our many bases. Cammy has evidently been doing much more than just planning our movements and enlightening the young, though. Pulsating egg mounds lie in every corner, and broodlings cross the floor and webs in long lines.

"The blasphemers are on the move," Cammy says, her scent oozing disgust, "we have to move against them ourselves, or they may gain passage to the citadels."

I am sanguine, despite her warnings. The blasphemers tend to excite the more zealous among us, and Cammy especially, but they are no real threat to us, I feel.

"If they gain free passage to the citadels, Master will be their first target. We must strike first, to prevent this."

I cannot suppress my immediate disbelief and scorn for such an idea. Master, felled by one of our kind? Absurd.

"Mere heretics think to destroy Master? You take their foolishness too seriously, Cammy," I say, crawling up onto her webbing with some trouble. She is far lighter than I, and her threads were thinner. "Leave them to their delusions. It is the mewling ones that are our true enemies."

"Death to the whiskered devils... Praise be to the lord..." came a droning chorus from all around as the Enlightened sang their hatred for the furry monsters.

"Do not be so quick to dismiss any of our enemies, Guile," Cammy whispers, emitting wafts of mating scents in my direction as she seeks to sway me, "the blasphemers are yet a threat, if not to Master than to our kind who have yet to be brought into His light. They challenge not just Master, but the Enlightenment, and this cannot be allowed. Such insolence deserves your attention... and your venom."

"May a thousand fangs descend upon the whiskered devils," droned the Enlightened, "may the abyssal webs seize their blighted souls and entangle them in darkness and suffering."

My eyes take in the scuttling broodlings as they move over a larger web, laying threads that are not part of any normal pattern. A map.

"What do you propose?" I ask, effectively giving up any resistance. I still think it a waste of effort, but then I pity the heretics more than I despise them.

"You will take Ryu and a group of Enlightened here, to the waste piles of the citadel in which Master dwells. It is here that the blasphemers make their nests and plot against the gods," Cammy says, drawing a slender leg down a square of thick threading indicated a citadel and then to a spot designated by an open patch.

"Our tunnelers have a passage here. I have already dispatched a crawler for Ryu. You will meet with him and a group of Enlightened here."

I keep silent as her leg drew slowly across the webs, her crimson armor gleaming as it crossed a narrow beam of light descending from the room's only window.

"The blasphemers will likely outnumber you, but like all their kind they are weak, and their will divided. Reduce the worthless heathens to husks!"

With a dizzying burst of hate-scent, the tip of her leg cuts sharply through a patch of webbing denoting the enemy encampment, ripping free a large section of the web map. The broodlings closest to her, incensed by the sudden aggression, scatter for safety.

"Very well," I say calmy, not indulging her zealous anger, "I shall dispatch them and then return to my dwelling and my duties to the gods. By your leave, Cammy."

She seems disappointed in my response, but I can tell she was baiting me, both to raise my choler at the blasphemers and probably hoping that I would return to her nest after my task was completed. The second aim in particular troubles me. Not that she is an inadequate female, persay, but her size does not appeal to my tastes.

That, and I'm almost certain that some of the dried coccoons hanging from the ceiling hold the remains of her former lovers. Definitely not my type.

"The light of the master be with you. May the gods watch over you, and may our enemies perish beneath their heel!" screeched the chorus.

* * *

I approach the gate keeper and make a gesture, prodding the great beast to her duty.

It is cold, and she is sluggish as she lifts her great spade-tipped front legs and pushes open the trap door above us. I latch onto the funnel webbing she has laid and climb out into the sun, noting the positions of a pair of false gods approaching as I emerge.

It should be said that while the false gods occupy a special position of piteous irrelevance to my kind, the feeling is not always mutual. Many of the lumpy imitators seem to find some special fascination with us, while some of the false gods seem to take pleasure in hunting us, attacking without mercy or any scent of hatred. Often they devour us on the spot after attacking, and while I do not begrudge the predator his catch, it is yet one more way in which they nuisances rather than true gods.

I bring this up because one of the false gods has begun to pick up speed toward me, its scent excited.

I back up past the trap door, raising my legs to defend, but they would be little threat to this towering creature. Nonetheless it slows down, its face warping perversely, waiting to see what I do. Foolish pretender. It should take more care to observe Master's wisdom.

I leap forward at the false god's exposed leg, and it hops backward, raising that leg out of reach with a crude laugh.

I do not move immediately after I land, and the false god snaps me up by one one of my legs, hauling me into the air. Exactly as predicted.

With a hiss, the gate keeper acts, the trap door snapping open and the keeper seizing the false god's leg before sinking her fangs deep into its flesh.

The false god staggers as pain and fear mix with its scents, and with a mighty swing I reach my legs up onto the distracted creature's arm before biting deeply into it, its pathetic removable armor doing nothing to stop my fangs.

As the offending false god flails, trying to free its arm, the gate keeper drags its leg into the burrow, causing it to sink with her into the web-covered depths toward the others of our kind that wait patiently for prey or foes.

As I draw my fangs out and then bite again in a different spot, the false god starts to change shape, discarding its facade in panic and fear. Its flesh starts to harden into something more akin to proper armor, and I can see its head swelling in even more grotesque ways.

As more of our kind start clambering up its leg and biting relentlessly through the scales growing over the false god's flesh, it seizes me with its free hand to pull me off. I do not wish to lose my legs fighting a creature such as this, so I release my grip immediately, allowing it to fling me away. I do, however, manage to stick a thread onto its arm before becoming airborne, and though the thread breaks from the force of the throw, it saps enough force from my flight that I land without injury.

The second false god moves to help the first, but it would seem it is too late. Younglings swarm over the scaly green beast, trailing webbing in their wake and entangling it even as the gate keeper drags its leg deeper into the tunnel, forcing the other leg to buckle. Larger kin find weaknesses in the hard scale armor and bite repeatedly, flushing the false god with the venom of the faithful.

There is much panicked clawing and some frantic biting from my "predator," but soon its arms are completely entangled, and its companion is forced to back off and swat the younglings off to prevent himself from being trapped as well. Large sections of the false god's body start to swell, and its struggles become weaker as the adults finish the younglings' task, wrapping it more tightly to prevent further resistance as the gate keeper manages to pull it down up to its abdomen.

I stay to watch the conflict to its conclusion, as I was the one to trigger it. Before long, all that is left of the arrogant false god is a bit of its pointed, whipcord tail sticking out of the trap door. Its companion is fleeing the scene, possibly to get help but more likely just to avoid any possibility of sharing the same fate.

After another moment, the tail is pulled underground and the burrow is sealed entirely, allowing me to move on.

I decide that I should really thank the gate keeper next time I see her. Hopefully by giving her a brood of her own. Now THAT'S a female. Excellent girth and superb instincts. Cammy may be intelligent, but she can't hope to compare. Also there's the cannibalism. Don't much care for that.

* * *

Ryu is not the only one waiting for me in the great web woven between several trees and the wall of the citadel, but he is by far the most visible, his bulk and dark color standing out even from outside the webs. There are also four Enlightened, all of which I have met before.

In service to Master and the gods, there are three tiers of devotion and understanding. Us Chosen are Master's personal guards and servants, trained by his hand and personally tasked with attending to him directly. Enlightened are below us in understanding and importance, having Learned and devoted themselves to Master's service. Together the Chosen and the Enlightened work toward Master's goals, most notably the extinction of the whiskered devils and the protection of other, less powerful gods. We are an army of sorts, with individuals tasked with fighting, hunting, weaving structures, digging tunnels for travel, planning and organizing, scouting for new targets and dangers, and most importantly, teaching more of our kind of the way of the gods. Learned are the least of us, yet have still been raised above the ignorant beasts that make up most of our kind. They have been taught Master's wisdom and Learned respect for the gods, Learned to work and speak with others of our kind rather than eat them and made aware of the world that exists outside their own nests. Without Learning, my kind are pathetic beasts, tethered to whatever pitiful dark corner of a citadel they arrogantly think to claim and listlessly sucking the juices from flies until they're devoured themselves or crushed by a disturbed god.

That the Learned have not yet devoted themselves to Master is seen as a mark of immaturity, and it is largely assumed that they will supplicate themselves once the euphoric wonder of Learning has passed and they've contemplated life beyond their next meal and next mate.

It is a sad, bitter truth, however, that such wisdom is not universal.

"The blasphemers sit below us, planning their treachery in the shadows of the citadel's refuse," hisses an albino weaver, his hate scent strongest of all.

"Then let us descend and be done with them," mutters a black-and-green striped ally, his hairless carapace gleaming in the sunlight.

I do not feel reassured when I look over our party. Not only are the Enlightened hot-headed and inexperienced, but they are, to be frank, small, the biggest of them barely a quarter of Ryu's size. Although our kind have many ways to win violent conflicts without a head-to-head melee, in an assault action like this, it's quite likely to dissolve into one, and the size of your opponent is quite critical in deciding the outcome of fights between our kind.

"How many are there?" asks Ryu, his tone heavy and neutral, devoid of scent.

"I spotted six entering the crevasse," answered the smallest one, a spotted brown jumper with enormous eyes that dominated her tiny head.

"Sizes," I demanded.

"Ah... mid-size, I suppose? Most of them. One was large. At least as big as a whiskered devil," the jumper said uncertainly, her excitement being dampened by our planning.

"Then a simple assault is impossible," Ryu said firmly, "you'll all likely be killed while me and Guile defeat the large one, and then we'll be swarmed."

"You are Chosen! Taught by our lord himself! You cannot be felled by mere heretics!"

"If you are right, then we would prevail, and you would have all died needlessly," I say calmly.

The jumper quivers anxiously. "I see, then. Shall I go seek reinforcements?"

"That is unnecessary," I say as Ryu turns toward me questioningly, "as you say, we Chosen have been instructed by our lord. And Master has much to say on the topic of avoiding unfavorable battles..."

* * *

Blasphemers.

What drives one to deny the truth laid out right in view of their frontal eyes and turn from the light of the gods is beyond me, and I am thankful for my ignorance.

The ways of our traitorous kin who have Learned but not accepted Master and the gods are mysterious, but it is at least understood that they have seen some special role for the demi-gods, and think that such pretenders will be their salvation, branding the true gods as enemies.

There are various theories as to why. Chun-Li believes that the demi-gods have organized them, using them as tools to help attack the gods. Vega muses that they think they can ascend to be demi-gods themselves if they manage to kill and devour an entire god themselves. Sagat thinks less of them, and assumes that their violent and abhorrent goals are simple manifestations of jealousy, branding them all selfish idiots angered that they can never achieve divinity and looking up to the demi-gods who have come closest to that impossible goal.

We will never know the truth, though; blasphemers are never questioned. Once any single eye of an Enlightened or Chosen has glanced a heretic, that creature is marked for death. Though some of us are less enthusiastic about actively hunting them down than others, that such vile, deluded beasts must be killed is a unanimous sentiment.

I keep my mind clear as I crawl silently across the surface of the citadel refuse depository, my legs finding easy purchase on the strange, slightly gummy wall. Such surfaces are common; the gods often coat materials with it for some reason. It offers excellent footing and absorbs my weight quite easily, lessening the vibrations I release with every step. Perhaps they use it to aid our kind? I rather doubt it, but it's a nice thought.

Ryu clambers over another receptacle in front of me, the both of us descending upon the opening between the two.

We halt before peeking into the crevasse, listening and tasting the air. Hate. A great deal of hate. But no fear. This group is ready for battle, but not expecting it to come to them.

Ryu's abdoment quivers mightily as he raised his front legs in preparation.

It begins. Without fanfare I scuttle over the corner of the receptacle, staring into the crevasse and the many, many glittering eyes within.

* * *

My first thoughts are to wonder just how long Cammy has had this nest scouted, for there are far more than the six blasphemers that the jumper had seen enter here.

I estimated over twenty at a glance, but two in particular arrested my attention immediately. First, and most obviously, is that there is not one, but THREE large heretics. One of them languishes at the very rear, his black, hairy bulk greater even then Ryu's as he sits like a carrion king upon a pile of rat bones and carapace husks.

This is quite bad. But the second blasphemer that caught my attention truly incensed me: a smaller creature, with its abdomen a dark purple and sporting a white patch vaguely resembling the shape of a god's head.

Time slows down as the heretics start to move, fear-scents and hate-scents raging, but my attention is locked on that single blasphemer, the most venomous breed of our kind known to me. The one with poison enough to kill a god in a single bite.

I am enraged, and as my side-eye spots a heretic falling on me from a higher place on the receptacle, I knock it off its path with an upward snap of my second-front leg, striking it with my joint and letting it fall into an errant web.

Two jumpers leap at me, and I swat one out of the air as I rise up, catching the second in my mouth. Though she tries to bite at me, she has no leverage, and as her legs scratch at my head I crush hers between my fangs.

I began to come to my senses as her lifeless body falls away, my legs throbbing as my senses are overwhelmed by countless angry legs pounding against the ground and both receptacles. As three hairy mid-size heretics attack I start to retreat, all the while making warning jabs with my front legs.

One such jab strikes true, puncturing an eye mostly on accident, and the blasphemer's body quakes as I commit to the strike, pushing the leg forward as the impudent beast writhes.

This distraction allows one of the others to get under my legs, and he immediately attacks, striking for my thorax.

His fangs scrape uselessly against my armor. As I am considerably bigger, his fangs are useless against me save for a few unfortunate spots. And I have no itention of letting him get at those.

I withdraw completely around the corner of the receptacle, still backing away as the blasphemers spread out, more of them piling to the front while fearing to enter within range of my frontmost legs.

I can see more of the blasphemers scuttling over the edge of the next receptacle, and they halt in shock and terror as they suddenly see Ryu lying in wait.

His front legs scythe downward, impaling a pair of heretics before they could make another move.

I cannot devote much attention to my fellow Chosen, however. The heretics start to surround me, each of them individually wary of coming within biting range, but well aware that I can only dispatch a few of them at a time, and only to my front. Theirs is an unusual tactic for our kind, who always used to hunt alone. A result of the Learning. To see it used for such perverse ends angers me, I admit.

However, their understanding is pitiful compared to mine. As expected, the first of the large heretics emerges from the crevasse, moving slowly along the ground to avoid trampling his allies. He chose to keep to the ground rather than chase me with the others because size is a liability when anchored to a vertical surface, while on the ground it offers much greater stability. It is a fair assessment, for a simpleton.

Lurching forward through the smaller foes, I position myself above the first large heretic and push off from the wall of the receptacle, dropping straight down on the wooly beast. He is shocked by my tactic, but unsure what to do as I wrap my legs around him and bite at his thorax.

After a moment, I raise my head in frustration, having failed to penetrate his armor. It is considerably thicker than it looks.

The other blasphemers drop down all around me or scuttle to the hairy one's assistance, but the dim beast is frightened now, and his thrashing and clumsy attempts to dismount me risk crushing the others should they get close.

I shift forward during the chaos, positioning myself above my prey's head before driving my fangs straight into its topmost eyes. This is almost a mortal wound on its own, but I make sure to feed its quivering skull plenty of venom before drawing myself upward, calmly disentangling myself from the convulsing blasphemer.

I can see Ryu in my side-eyes, taking on the second of the large ones with little difficulty. Though he did not manage to ambush it as I did, he has a size advantage and isn't being targeted by nearly as many little ones. He will be fine.

I feel the other blasphemers, having finally surrounded me, start their attack, rushing from all sides and clambering up my legs and abdomen, fearing to attack me from the front.

They are a danger, but despite their assault I am still more concerned with the dark shape finally emerging from the crevasse. The massive blasphemer has reached the front.

I heave and twitch my legs, dismounting a few heretics, but carefully backing away from the massive beast as he turns his pincer-like fangs in my direction. There is hate in his scent, and some fear, but mostly the excitement of the hunter having found his next catch.

As he approaches, I feel fangs start to puncture my abdomen, the heretics clambering over me biting wherever they can. It is time to spring the trap.

"Cleanse them in Master's name!" I call, knocking over one small attacker going for my eyes and then sweeping him aside with a leg, "kill them all!"

Many of the blasphemers freeze in shock and sudden understanding. Their topmost eyes no doubt noticed that there is a great web stretched over the battleground, hung between the tree branches, but in the fury of violence, coupled with their apparent foolishness, they did not realize or remember that it hadn't been there before the Chosen's assault.

They do, however, notice that it is now falling quite fast.

Large holes in the webbing allowed the passage of air, while pebbles wrapped up and tethered to the net lent weight to its descent. As the webbing drops, I feel many of the blasphemers leap off me in a mad rush to safety. They did not make it.

The webbing lands, and the massive heretic snarls curses as he is blanketed, still moving toward me as threads catch on his legs and the thick hair of his armor.

Ryu and I are both entangled as well, of course, but this is all as planned. Ryu manages to use the confusion to finish off his foe, forcing himself atop the unbeliever right before the web landed. With the the advantage his and further movement all but impossible, there is little for him to do besides stay where he is and enjoy his meal.

I am in a less favorable position, as not all of the little ones attacking me have yet given up. Fangs continue to scrape against my armor, and as the web settles around me it only serves to pin my foes in place, safe from me as they continue to work through my defenses.

Luckily, time is not on their side. The Enlightened descend from the branches above, landing atop the webbing and scuttling toward me. They work furiously at the net, cutting threads and opening holes wider, while one of them, having been gifted with strong fangs flush with strong poisons, concentrates on dispatching the blasphemers adhered to me, biting the entangled heretics one by one and leaving them as convulsing heaps.

I am almost free now, and I carefully raise my legs one at a time to pull them through the rapidly expanding hole in the webbing.

And here, the plan goes awry. As I have mentioned, none of the Enlightened knew of the largest of the heretics. Had they known, they would have woven an even stronger net. As it was, the great beast only needed to find one of the wind holes before he rammed his head through, the weaves tearing as his massive, hairy legs push relentlessly against the threads.

I struggle above the trap, my mind a bit hazy. I have suffered several bites, and though none are critical, the venom is slowly doing its job. The Enlightened are no doubt aware of the supreme threat posed by the great beast, but it is all they can do to leap upon those blasphemers that have clung to me or attempted to escape with me from the trap. No doubt they expect that a Chosen should be more than capable of handling this.

Two Chosen, certainly. But Ryu is still trapped opposite the blasphemer, under the web, and shows no signs of moving to free himself as he snacks on his foe's innards and waits to be cut free. As we had planned, certainly, but if the oaf was paying sufficient attention, he would see that the plan is failing.

There is no more time for planning; if I retreat now, then Ryu will be killed for certain. Combat under poor circumstances is the only option remaining.

"Stay away from the heretic!" I demand of the Enlightened as I charge forward, letting righteous fury and instinct guide me as my body succumbs further to poison.

With a meaningless snarl, the blasphemer rips free of the trap entirely and scuttles atop the net, the last of the webbing that had held him reduced to wispy strands hanging from his hair.

There are cries of pain and anger as we rush toward each other, trampling the trapped blasphemers underfoot. For me, every satisfying snap of an armored back represents a service to the gods and the cleansing of a corrupt heathen. My opponent simply seems not to care, building up as much speed as possible for our clash. Luckily for me this is not much, thanks to his legs frequently catching and tearing through the unfamiliar webbing.

We meet, and he goes straight for the bite, trying to arc his frontmost legs over me to pin me down. Either because of my dazed state or in the rush of righteous fury, I opt to smash my head into his, slipping between his front legs and ramming his face just above his fangs. This tactic stuns the heretic, at least as much by its mad nature as by the force I was able to put into the strike; however, the difference in our weight is too great for me to deal a wound, and I start to withdraw as I make sharp jabs at the blasphemer's face.

My movements are agile and his clumsy, but I have already made a grievous tactical error. As I withdraw he stalks forward, his legs raised, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pin me down as he shrugs off the irritating and futile swipes. I am desperate now, for I know I cannot retreat faster than he can advance, and the webbing below starts to hinder my movements as much as he; the difference being that he needs to move much less than I to prevail.

As my rear leg steps lightly on a large, thrashing lump of entangled heretic, I stagger clumsily and my foe's legs come down, striking me squarely on the edges of my thorax armor and pushing me down into the webbing.

This is it, then. My allies have retreated around the blasphemer to free Ryu, but there is no great chance he will succeed where I have failed, even if he is released in time.

As the heathen beast makes a pleased grunt and leverages his fangs over my head, my clouded thoughts turn toward Master. We have done much damage to the blasphemous scum, and if there was any chance of them harming our lord, there is much less now. I have acquitted myself well, and my only regret is that my my demise here may inconvenience the lesser god to fetch his own armor in the mornings.

Somehow I have a feeling he'll be okay, though, so I still my thoughts and await the darkness.

_Crack!_

My mind whirls as the blasphemer is suddenly knocked off of me, his great bulk staggering. Having been under him, and not expecting intervention, I am completely unaware of what happened.

Howevermuch prepared I am for death, enough of my instincts remain for me to scramble away in the confusion, trying to continue my panicked retreat from the great beast.

Fortune is not on my side, though, and my leg catches on the webbing below, staggering me as the heretic comes back around for another try.

With escape cut off yet again, my mind turns to resistance, and I raise my legs to grapple face-to-face with him. A foolhardy thing to do with a warrior larger than myself under the best conditions, but infinitely better than being pinned and devoured.

I plant my frontmost legs against his thorax as he does the same to me, and I immediately feel the difference in mass as he pushes forward with all his strength.

"Wretched unbeliever!" I spit at him, indulging in some angry defiance as I am slowly overwhelmed, "may the gods stamp you out like the worthless mite you are!"

"They will have to," snarls back the heretic as he starts to push me down, "as their foolhardy servants have failed them. Your hateful gods WILL fall, zealot! And then... Uh-oh."

We do not have many terms to express frustration directly, as our scents can divulge our mood on their own. But the blasphemous warrior must have used every one of them thrice over when Master finally walked into view, holding a small stone in His hand and smelling of irritation and hate.

_Crack!_

Yet again, my foe was sent reeling from the impact of a rock against his thorax, and as he staggered I could only sit in awe of my lord's presence.

My lord spoke, and never more so than that moment did I wish I could comprehend the full beauty and depth of my lord's words. Was He praising me for my devotion? Berating me for my weakness? Or perhaps were His words meant for the hateful slime behind me, who dared defy Him? It was times like this I wish that the demi-god Keito were around to act as translator, not that I imagine she'd accept the role. But at least then she'd be of SOME use.

The blasphemer, apparently angered beyond the point of even wishing to survive, leapt at Master, aiming to bite my lord's leg.

A pathetic gesture. Master kicked His leg up, striking the heretic with ferocious speed and sending the fool higher into the air, where Master simply grabbed him around his thorax, from the backside.

I have never felt such joy and relief than at that moment, watching as my would-be slayer writhed and spat, its legs and fangs thrashing about in the air while completely unable to find purchase on anything.

Master spoke some more to our foe, likely some condemnation or token wisdom that was naturally lost on the ignorant heathen, and then became bored, tossing the creature behind Him like a piece of discarded trash.

I think no less of my lord for neglecting to kill the beast, and ultimately letting it escape; it is His way to spare all our kind, no doubt in the hope that one day we will all discover His wisdom and serve Him properly, as we are meant to. Master's love and mercy extends even to those that wish Him harm, and were it not for the fact that the blasted traitor nearly killed me, I would hope for the fool's Enlightenment.

Master reaches down and picks me up as He walks over the webbing, His unnaturally nimble gait avoiding the last few living heretics as the Enlightened scramble about below, finishing them off. His scent is... displeased, but as as He brushes His hand against my armor, I cannot help but feel He is relieved to have protected me. Never have I felt such joy and devotion, and I feel the venoms that clouded my mind lifting as Master's touch fills my body with renewed might.

And then, at once, I freeze in terror as I catch a glimpse of color above Master's head. The barest hint of purple is visible before it vanishes behind Master's hair, and I am suddenly consumed with a fury far more intense than what the massive warrior heathen had faced.

The god-slayer!

I had forgotten about it in the dizzying array of battle, assuming it had attacked with the rest of its worthless brethren and been caught in our trap. Master is speaking while staring down at the Enlightened, who are still feasting on blasphemers, and though I hear Him speak my name from time to time, I can hear no commands calling me to His defense.

With a hiss so vile and hateful that it startles master from His lecture, I clamber up Master's arm and reach for His head in a mad scramble.

Master objects to this, loudly, and I suppose I cannot blame Him, for I must seem a feral beast right now. Master quickly grabs me by my back, in exactly the same fashion as He had my earlier opponent, and holds me away at arms' length while lecturing me. I hear the command word "bad" indicating His displeasure at my error, but for once in my short and devoted life there is a matter of more import than my lord's opinion of me.

The traitor with the purple abdomen has been unsettled, as Master moved about quite a bit while startled. I can see the dark bulge bobbing unsteadily from atop Master's hair. Master would probably have noticed easily had I not distracted Him... and had He not grown so used to our kind scuttling over His body. The hair is too thick for the traitor to get through easily, protecting Master from her fangs, but the reprieve will be short.

I have but one chance. Being held in this way I have no way to move, but there is still the option of moving the heretic scum to me.

Ignoring Master's words, I reach my rear legs down to my abdomen, and drawing on Master's wisdom and strength seeping into me through His hand, I draw a length of thread from my reserve. And then, with a mental prayer to all the gods to protect their lord, I let the loop of webbing fly.

Master makes a face as He sees me fling some thread up into His hair, but by some stroke of luck or ambivalence He does nothing to stop me. I hiss noisily as the thread settles around the god-slayer, who in turn startles badly once she realizes she's been noticed.

I pull savagely on the thread, snapping the hateful pest away from Master and toward me, and once she is within range my legs come together like pincers, puncturing her telltale abdomen as I stop her in mid-flight.

Master says something, and it includes "bad," but I am still not listening. The god-slayer quivers in pain and fear. She knew she was to be a martyr, that she would not survive her impossible task of killing the greatest of the gods, and she took the task upon herself anyway.

Now she was going to die while having accomplished nothing, my lord unaware that she was even a threat.

Master groans as I take her head off with my fangs, no doubt disappointed in me. Devouring my kin was one of the first things He taught against during my Learning. But this is not hunting, but war. Not that I should expect Master to be able to see the nuances of crude, lesser beings such as us.

Master sighs and puts me down, extricating Himself from the mess of twitching bodies and assorted carnage. Reaching down, He easily tears through the net and extracts Ryu, holding the lummox against His chest while pointing to the husk of the large blasphemer and repeating "bad".

Ryu makes a pleased scent, and Master snaps His fingers, ordering me to "come". This command I follow gladly, scampering up my lord's leg as He prepares to enter the citadel.

Even if He had been able to resist the god-slayer, even if this entire exercise was pointless, and even if going against Master's will, even in this matter, turns out to be wrong, I have served Him, and for this I am pleased. And in return for my protection, whether He desired it or not, Master protected me in turn. Even should I face punishment for my disobedience, I will gladly suffer it.

For I am Guile, the Chosen, and tomorrow, I will still crawl with the gods.

A Day in the Life of a Trained Attack Spider: Session Complete  
Need to re-train some of the spiders not to eat the others. Or maybe just feed them more. - Ranma Saotome  
Chapter End


	3. Sacrilicious

Big Human on Campus  
After School Sessions  
by Black Dragon

I do not own the bible. Actually, I don't even own A bible. Everything I know about Christian lore is gleaned from pop-culture, common knowledge that often turns out to be wrong, and long caps-locked rants from religious fanatics on the Internet. And I felt that was sufficient knowledge to break Christianity over my knee like a piece of balsa wood. Agnosticism is awesome!

Session 3  
Sacrilicious

* * *

"All right, the headmaster's rep is wrapping up, I think," mumbled Yukari, "there are some students with questions, but I fully expect him to blow them off. We're out of time."

Tsukune took several deep breaths as Kurumu dusted and picked at his uniform. He was pretty sure she was just using it as an excuse to rub herself all over him, but at present he found her fussing a helpful distraction.

He and a few of the higher-ranked members of the Protection Committee, including Ranma, Moka, Yukari, and Kurumu, were all standing behind a heavy curtain on the stage of Youkai Academy's main auditorium.

The occasion was a school rally being held by the student council to celebrate the least deadly month in Youkai Academy's history. Tsukune's second month on the job was apparently also the first month that there had been less than ten deaths or disappearances ever since the high school for monsters had first opened to the public (his first month might have managed the feat, had it not been for Saffron's rampage).

Tsukune tried hard not to think about the fact that less than ten fatalities in a single month within an educational establishment was considered a landmark achievement. He also didn't like to think about the fact that if Saffron's multiple deaths were taken into account, then the record would not have been broken. Tobaki had been quite insistent that he be counted at least once despite the fact that he reincarnated, and Tsukune was quite disturbed to learn that the full count of eight grisly murders would have doubled their standing total.

But the main thing that he was trying not to think about was standing in front of the entire school and reading his speech. He'd never known he had a fear of public speaking, because nobody had ever asked it of him before. He'd found a talent for self-righteous lecturing while overthrowing the Enforcers, and thought it totally reasonable that there was no difference between yelling at a stranger about right and wrong and talking to an entire crowd about it. But there was. It was TOTALLY different, and he could already feel the weight of hundreds of people's expectations on his shoulders as he heard the sparse clapping from out in the auditorium. To someone who had spent most of his life blending in and being totally ignored, the feeling was utterly oppressing and immobilizing, which was quite ironic considering how calmly he could now handle a direct and legitimate threat to his life by a bloodthirsty monster.

"All right, the rep is done," Yukari said, drawing back from the stage and turning toward the others, "okay, Hokuto's going to introduce you, and then you're on, Tsukune."

Moka looked grim as she looked at Tsukune's rattled expression. "Ranma, are you SURE Kana can't read the whole thing from backstage while Tsukune just lip-syncs?"

"I told you, it won't work. She's way more shy than he is. She won't be able to project even though nobody would be looking at her," Ranma protested.

Moka turned back to Tsukune, squeezing his shoulder. "Tsukune, relax! You can handle this! Speaking is your best skill!"

"It's your ONLY skill!" Yukari chimed in, technically supporting Moka's statement but doing nothing for Tsukune's self-esteem.

"Okay, I'm... I'm going out there!" Tsukune managed to spit out, holding a thin stack of papers between his hands and shaking like a leaf.

Ranma shook his head. "Yeah, looks like it's come down to this," he nodded at Kurumu, who suddenly looked quite pleased, "do it."

Tsukune blinked. "Do whammhf?" His question was silenced prematurely as Kurumu suddenly grabbed onto his tie and then practically smashed their lips together.

Moka's eyes bugged out as the succubus kissed Tsukune hungrily, grasping onto the hapless boy's head as she moaned seductively.

_'Hey, you wanna say something, or are you just going to let them French right in front of you? Seriously, they're almost slobbering on you, here,'_ Evil Moka groused from within the Rosario.

"STOP THAT!" Moka finally shouted, her cheeks as pink as her hair.

To her surprise, Kurumu did as asked, promptly breaking the kiss and then quickly fixing Tsukune's tie while the boy looked completely stunned.

"That was for luck," the succubus chirped as she took out a handkerchief from her pocket and quickly wiped away the trickle of blood leaking from Tsukune's nose, "now out you go!"

With a rather smug look on her face, Kurumu turned Tsukune toward the open stage and gave him a light shove, forcing the semi-comatose boy out past the curtains.

"And to describe our new safety measures and policies in greater detail is the man who made it all possible," Hokuto said, his glasses gleaming as he gestured to a staggering Tsukune, "our new captain of the Protection Committee, Aono Tsukune!"

Tsukune immediately snapped out of his daze and lurched forward, stepping past a clapping Hokuto and up to the podium at the center of the stage.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and everything else, thank you for attending this rally! And thank you, Professor Richard, for not killing anyone on the way here just to make this celebration ironic!"

Over near the back of the crowd, Richard shrugged the leaking stumps that remained of his shoulders. "It wasn't for lack of trying." Behind him, Kouma and Chopper each held on to a severed arm, each of them looking somewhat worse for wear and extremely annoyed.

Tsukune continued speaking, his voice strong and clear. "Here at Youkai Academy we have a mission! In order to survive among humans we must become humans! But what does it mean to be human? Is it just a certain string of DNA? A lack of claws, wings, or perpetual fire?"

He shook his head, placing his now unnecessary notes face down on the podium. "No, of course not. Humans don't rule the outside world because they were born with the right tools. They're not in charge just because they have numbers. Humans are social creatures, who work together and cooperate for their supremacy! Through the establishment of laws to create order, and respect for their fellow man, humans have risen to dominance! And this wisdom I intend to bring to Youkai Academy!"

* * *

Ranma nodded happily as Tsukune started to describe rules of conduct to the students. "Nice work, Kurumu! Look at him go!"

As the succubus preened under the attention, Moka and Yukari watched in slack-jawed amazement.

"Wait, so he can overcome a paralyzing fear with just a kiss?" Moka asked, flushing slightly as she felt a deep sense of regret within her chest.

"So this is the power of a human male's sex drive!" Yukari said, her eyes gleaming.

Ranma nodded. "Yup. Plus, you know, the hypnosis doesn't hurt, either."

Moka and Yukari almost fell over as Kurumu giggled.

"What? What did you do to him?" Moka asked hotly.

"I just used my allure to make him feel completely confident about speaking in front of crowds," Kurumu said, giving Ranma a high-five, "of course, KISSING the target makes the effect more or less permanent. Which is sad, because that means I won't have an excuse to kiss him the next time, but oh well."

"You can't just mess with someone's mind! That's awful!" Moka protested.

"Well, it kinda depends on what you do with it," Ranma deadpanned, "making someone ditch their friend in a really petty revenge plot is a little different than curing someone's fear."

"Heh heh." Kurumu chuckled nervously as droplets of sweat gathered on her brow. "I was kind of hoping everyone forgot about that."

"That would be amazingly convenient, and kind of dumb, too," Ranma noted.

Moka pouted. "Still, you should have asked first! Maybe there was a way to do it without the allure!"

"Yeah, you're right!" Ranma said, snapping his fingers, "maybe we could have used one of your vampire powers to help him!"

Moka's face darkened as Kurumu started snickering.

"I mean, I heard that back in the day doctors used leeches to treat people, right? So I'm sure you're good for SOMETHING," Ranma said with an aggravating smile.

_'I really don't understand how you don't want to rip his spine out and strangle him with it,'_ Evil Moka quipped.

"Looks like Tsukune's wrapping it up," Yukari said as she peeked out onto the stage.

* * *

"... Which is why we've placed 'No fire-breathing' signs around such areas, along with the long-established 'No smoking' and 'Beware Professor Richard' warnings next to areas where we store volatile or sensitive materials," Tsukune said, looking somewhat grim.

"It's like people don't appreciate my contribution to the academic process," Richard griped.

"With these few changes, I hope to make our campus a safer place for everyone, and finally realize our headmaster's dream of graduating a surviving majority of each year's student body!" Tsukune continued.

The headmaster's representative, one of the strange men in dark suits, frowned and stepped forward to whisper in Tsukune's ear. "It's my understanding that the headmaster doesn't care about that at all, sir."

Tsukune ignored him, although a vein popped up on his head as he suddenly pointed to the crowd of clapping students. "I will now take questions! Do try to keep them brief though, we don't have much time!"

Numerous hands went up.

"I would remind you that I cannot answer any question about my or Ranma's species, as that would violate school rules," Tsukune said blandly.

The vast majority of the hands dropped.

"Okay... How about you? In the front?" Tsukune said, pointing to a fellow with his arm raised whose other arm was wrapped around a girl's shoulders.

"Morioka Ginnei, of the newspaper club," Gin said, letting his hand drop, "you said that under you, the Protection Committee is going to put a new focus on personal responsibility and NOT killing the students, yes?"

"That is my aim!" Tsukune said firmly. "My predecessor used his position to lord his power and privilege over the students, and I intend to turn that all around! Rules will be applied fairly and enforced consistently! Nobody will be punished for criticizing the Protection Committee, either! I hear the newspaper club had a particular problem with that!"

"Yeah, we did. Thanks," Gin said breezily, taking up a notepad in his hand that wasn't busy feeling up the girl next to him, "got a question, though: if that's your new policy, how do you explain Jikan's death?"

Tsukune blinked. "Jikan? Is that a surname, or-"

"Just Jikan. He was part of the student council until he was assigned to deliver dismissal notices to the Protection Committee," Gin explained as Tsukune's face started going pale, "and then he was torn apart, and his remains burned."

Tsukune swallowed nervously as he felt the gazes of the entire student body waiting for an explanation. "That... That was an unfortunate incident, yes... You see, our treasurer refused dismissal, and took the order... very poorly. This was before I had started instructing the Committee, mind you."

"Fair enough," said Gin, prompting the young human to sigh in relief, "but why is she still on the Committee? Has she even been punished in accordance with your new rules?"

Near the back of the auditorium, standing behind Chopper and Kouma, Tobaki frowned as she planted her hands on her hips.

"Just what is his problem? That happened almost two MONTHS ago! Get over it!" Tobaki complained, though she wasn't loud enough for most of the audience to hear.

"He's with the newspaper club. Part of the liberal media. Go figure," Kouma mumbled, rolling his eyes, "those guys will whine over the dumbest things."

"You could always try killing everyone in his club and then using their blood to print your own paper consisting entirely of threats against his life," Richard suggested, still waiting near the boys that had confiscated his arms.

Tobaki shook her head. "No, they tried that last year, so it looks like it didn't work. Besides, I'm not sure the club currently even HAS other members to supply the necessary materials."

"Also, you know, Aono said not to murder people," Chopper reminded her.

"Right, yes, there's that too," the demon agreed as Richard rolled his eyes.

Tsukune tugged on his shirt collar, finding that it somehow felt unusually warm on the stage. "Punishing our treasurer is... well, I would, but at the time of the killing it was completely within school rules. She filled out the form and everything!" he said desperately, well aware of how stupid his protest sounded.

"Okay, so she got off on a technicality," Gin said as the girl next to him took down a few notes for him, "fine. But why is she still in the Committee? Even if you weren't going to punish her for the unprovoked murder of a council member, isn't this kind of like rewarding her violent behavior?"

Tsukune floundered badly for a response, coming up with nothing. His fear of public speaking had been cured, but he still had no particular skill in making excuses.

Luckily, the person questioning him was Gin Morioka. After watching Tsukune stammer for a moment, the werewolf grew bored and spoke again. "Okay, different question: is the treasurer cute?"

Tsukune gaped slightly, but still took the stupidly convenient out. "Yes, she is, I suppose."

"On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the best, how-"

Tsukune suddenly cut Gin off, looking annoyed. "I don't really think this is at all relevant to the state of security on campus."

"Yeah, I guess not," Gin said regretfully, "you know what is relevant? Murdering the student council."

"She's a six," Tsukune said bleakly, before spying the girl in question near the back exit, "I mean, eight! Definitely an eight!"

* * *

"That was stupid," Tsukune complained as he stepped backstage.

Moka promptly came up to him with a towel, which he gratefully accepted to scrub his face and hair, which had been dirtied by sweat.

"I thought it went really well," Yukari said, looking perplexed.

"Yeah, until the whole thing turned into a gossip forum," Tsukune grumbled. Even after Gin had finished grilling him about Tobaki, other students had apparently taken that as an invitation to ask about the other girls of the Protection Committee.

Which, ultimately, was nice for Moka, who was flushed red and smiling broadly, but less nice for Kurumu, who was hugging her knees to her chest as she sat in the corner.

"I don't know what you're so bummed about," Ranma insisted, trying to cheer up the succubus, "a nine is really good, right?"

"It was lower than Moka's," Kurumu mumbled morosely.

"So he has some weird taste," Ranma said with a shrug, "that doesn't mean she's better than you or anything. She's a parasite!"

"YOU also rated higher," Kurumu said darkly.

"Well, yeah, but in my case I deserve it," Ranma said with a helpless shrug, "what am I gonna do, STOP being awesome and sexy? No way."

"I think it's best if we all just forget the last forty minutes ever happened," Tsukune said wearily.

"BWAH HA HA HA HAAA!" That prospect seemed increasingly unlikely as Kouma staggered backstage from the side entrance, trying and failing miserably to contain laughter. "I can't believe that actually happened! Ha ha ha ha!"

Chopper and Tobaki followed, the latter looking annoyed.

"I really don't see how my credentials in the Protection Committee lead to a ranking of the other female members in terms of attractiveness," the yochlol complained, "or why people kept bringing up killing Shikon every time Captain Aono wanted to end the Q and A session."

"Jikan," Chopper corrected, "they said his name was Jikan."

"Whatever," Tobaki said, rolling her eyes, "my point is that killing one person a long time ago shouldn't be such a big deal."

"Less than two months wasn't that long ago, and we really doubt you've only killed one," Moka deadpanned.

"It still isn't that big a deal," Chopper scoffed.

"Yes, it IS a big deal," Tsukune retorted, "it undermines everything we've accomplished since then that one of my very first actions was to take in Tobaki after she murdered an innocent person."

Ranma shrugged. "Hey, nobody's perfect."

"That's just not imperfect, it's totally wrong!" Tsukune protested.

"Well, I for one am glad you did it anyway, because it would be really annoying to keep track of all the accounts myself," Yukari said with a shrug, "Tobaki pulls her weight, whether or not she made a mistake."

"Failing a test is making a mistake," Moka said humorlessly, "killing someone for delivering a memo is an atrocity."

Tobaki snorted. "So someone who doesn't make mistakes but contributes nothing is better?"

Kouma's chuckling finally petered out as the others argued, his amusement vanishing as the bickering slowly heated up.

"You know, if it's really such a problem for you, we can always go get this guy."

Everyone stopped dead, most of them understandably perplexed.

"No, I didn't know that," Tsukune said, "what are you talking about?"

Moka raised an eyebrow. "Maybe Miss Madaraki could do it? I hear she's really good with this sort of thing."

Ranma shook his head. "There was barely enough of that guy left to put together even BEFORE Kouma burnt his remains."

Yukari snapped her fingers. "The holy dragon came back from death, right? So maybe-"

"That method only works on Netherworld monsters," Tobaki explained, "and even then, it's possible to ruin one so badly that it can't be brought back. I've done it before. You just have to-"

"Not helping," Tsukune interrupted sharply, "anyway, what did you have in mind, Kouma?"

Kouma shrugged. "Let's go to Hell."

* * *

Barely an hour later, all the Protection Committee was gathered in their office lobby, most of them seated as Tsukune questioned Kouma about his plan.

"You're being serious? We can actually go into the afterlife, pick him up, and bring him back to the real world?" the young human asked, his voice bordering on incredulous.

Tsukune didn't want to believe something so ridiculous, yet it was hard to form a logical argument against it. Kouma was, after all, a hellhound. Tsukune had seen people killed right in front of him only to meet them later as if nothing had happened. There was nothing about stealing souls from the afterlife that was really any less plausible.

"Well, it's more complicated than that, but yeah, that's the concept," Kouma confirmed.

"How are we going to get into Hell?" Kurumu asked, intrigued.

"I'll use my old employee I.D." the hellhound said, taking out his wallet and sliding out a rather weathered plastic card.

Ranma leaned in to read the card. "Kouma F. Gamaroshi, Security Section C, Gate Division. 'Sin with security!'"

"That was our old division motto," Kouma said, sounding fairly proud.

"Don't you think your card might be deactivated by now?" Yukari asked skeptically.

Kouma snorted. "Hell is staffed by only the laziest, most obstructive bureaucrats in existence. I'd be surprised if they even HAVE a procedure for that."

"So how do we find this Jikan guy?" Ranma asked, scratching his head, "there's gotta be a lot of people in Hell... or former people, anyway."

"We have an office that handles torment assignment. Assuming they haven't lost it, I just have to root through their records, and then we pick him up and bail."

"Is it going to be that easy to abscond with someone imprisoned in eternal torment?" Keito asked skeptically.

"Well, if they had a real guardian working at the gates, no, it'd be completely impossible to get out with a damned soul," Kouma explained with a bitter smile and a vein pulsing on the side of his head, "but without any REAL security it'll be easy."

"Well, what're we waiting for, then?" Chopper asked.

"Wait, hold on, please," Tsukune asked, "Kouma, this IS Hell we're talking about. Just how safe is it to travel through?"

"Not very," Kouma admitted, "with me around, we probably won't be attacked by the devils running the place, but there are plenty of less reasonable nasties, and the terrain is as unforgiving as your so-called kind and loving God."

"Exactly how much sacrilege can we expect on this mission?" Keito asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"A LOT. This is a specifically Christian afterlife we're talking about," said the hellhound.

"Then I'd like to withdraw from this operation on religious grounds," Keito said, uncrossing her arms and planting them on her hips, "my religion describes a very specific afterlife for me, and I will not accept seeing a guided tour of a different one."

"You're refusing to go on the grounds that your religion will be proven wrong?" Yukari deadpanned.

Keito said nothing, staring hard at Tsukune.

The Committee captain rolled his eyes. "Fine, you can stay behind. Whatever. Anyone else?"

Kana stepped closer to Ranma. "..."

"Kana says that she wants to stay behind too. All the dust and ash might really damage her throat, and she's not that robust," Ranma said, patting the siren on the head and eliciting a contented sigh from the girl.

"We're looking at a lot of fire, right? Not my thing. I'll stay here," Chopper said, falling backward into a chair and causing it to creak loudly in its effort to contain his mass.

"And Shirayuki shouldn't go either," Kouma said, jabbing a thumb at the shock of mussy purple hair barely visible from behind Chopper's chair, "she'd have a snowball's chance in Hell of making it through. Which actually isn't even a metaphor, now that I think about it."

"Anyone else?" Tsukune asked, looking around at his subordinates.

"How do they feel about demons in Hell?" Tobaki asked, raising her hand.

"It depends on which edition you follow," Kouma admitted, "but for the sake of staying as far away from you as possible I have to assume they'll attack you on sight."

Tobaki nodded. "Very well. That Jokon fellow probably wouldn't react very well to seeing me again anyway."

"Jikan. His name was Jikan," Yukari corrected the demon.

"Okay, so the team staying behind will be Chopper, Mizore, Kana, Tobaki, and Keito," Tsukune said, "and me, Ranma, Moka, Kurumu, Yukari, and Kouma will go get Jikan from the afterlife." The young human nodded, smiling brightly. If this mission worked out, he will have redeemed the most serious error in his young career!

"So who's in charge while you're gone?" Keito asked, quirking an eyebrow.

In one sentence, Keito had turned Tsukune's sanguine mood sour. He had no idea how long this trip to Hell was supposed to take. Who of the remaining group could he trust not to cause some calamity while he was away?

Keito was right out; if she didn't usurp him directly, she'd probably lay some kind of trap or do something to turn the student body against him. Leaving things to Tobaki was basically the same as putting Keito in charge, as she would do anything the spider woman said if he wasn't around to contradict Keito. Chopper wasn't much better, as he was dull enough to be manipulated with minimal effort.

Maybe Mizore or Kana? Glancing over at Chopper's chair, he saw Mizore giving Kana the most ambivalent glare Tsukune had ever seen as the siren continued to cling to Ranma, giving the ice woman a smug smile.

'That's not going to work out. If I left either of them in charge of Chopper, the other one would probably be dead when we got back. Which would mean ANOTHER trip to hell.'

"Kurumu?" Tsukune asked, forcing an affectionate grin, "do you think you could stay here to keep things in order while we're gone?"

Kurumu looked surprised at the request. "But I want to go with you!"

"I know that, and I'm thankful, but..." Tsukune chewed his lip as he trailed off, thinking of how to proceed.

"Why doesn't Moka stay behind? Or Yukari?" Kurumu asked.

"But I wanna see Hell!" Yukari complained. "For academic reasons, though. Without the eternal torment."

"I wouldn't mind staying," Moka offered, being quite willing to give up an afternoon by Tsukune's side to avoid going to the worst place in the multiverse.

Tsukune grimaced as he placed his hands on Kurumu's shoulders, gaining her undivided attention immediately. "Listen, Kurumu, there's a reason I'm giving this task to you: you're the only one that has both the sense and the strength to keep Keito in line and prevent the others from committing some horrible or stupid catastrophe."

"I'm RIGHT HERE, you know," Keito groused, eliciting no sympathy at all.

"The only other one who could do it is Ranma, and we're probably going to need him down there. So you're the only one I can trust with this," Tsukune said seriously.

Kurumu almost glowed as she clasped one of Tsukune's hands, her eyes sparkling. "Leave it to me! I'll keep everything in order! The school won't even realize you're gone!"

"Right! Thanks, Kurumu!" Tsukune said, extracting his hands, "we'll leave immediately, so I'm counting on you not to let Keito ruin all we've accomplished so far!"

"I'd really consider it a basic courtesy if you all speculated about my loyalty behind my back rather than right in front of me," Keito fumed.

Once again she didn't get a response, and Kouma beckoned the "rescue team" to follow him. "Come on, we'll take care of this outside."

Tsukune, Ranma, Moka, and Yukari allow followed as instructed while Kurumu waved goodbye to them cheerfully.

Then, as soon as they were out of earshot of the classroom, Moka asked, "So Kurumu is the only one you could trust to be in charge while you're gone, huh?" the vampiress asked, her face darkening.

As Tsukune started to panic, Ranma scoffed. "No, she's not the only one. I could've done it, and probably Kouma too, if he weren't guiding us. Maybe Yukari, in a pinch. I'd just be worried about Keito overpowering her."

Moka's mood seemed to dip further, and Tsukune quickly tried to reassure her. "No, Moka, I just wanted you to stay with us! You can do more to help while we're trying to navigate through the afterlife!"

Moka glanced at Tsukune hesitantly, looking slightly hopeful. "Really?"

Tsukune suddenly turned toward Kouma, "Wait a minute, why are we going outside? How do we even get to Hell, anyway?"

"Huh. He must've been saving that," Ranma murmured to Yukari.

"Smart man," the young witch murmured back.

Kouma wagged a finger in the air as he pushed open the door and stepped outside. "Who do you think you're talking to? Matters of the underworld are my specialty, after all. I can get us there."

As the others gathered near the building entrance to watch, Kouma stepped out into the middle of a field, glancing around at the dry, wasted terrain.

"Yeah, this'll do fine," the hellhound said as he withdrew a small cylinder from his jacket pocket and unfolded it.

"All right, we're heading home!" Kouma said happily as he unrolled a scroll from within the cylinder, which promptly started disintegrating into motes of bright light.

Moments later, a blue beam of light maybe ten feet high appeared in the air before him, and the the center of the line seemed to expand, swelling into a shimmering blue oval that sat on the ground, wreathed in white, glimmering energy.

"Everyone aboard!" Kouma said as he stepped into the oval, disappearing from view as he crossed over entirely into the azure window.

Everyone else looked slightly surprised at the occurrence, though each of them had witnessed far more bizarre things. Ranma was naturally the first to follow Kouma, heedless of any possible danger on the other side.

Moka took hold of Tsukune's hand nervously, causing the young human to get nervous himself, though for a very different reason.

"Well, I was hoping I'd never have to see the land of eternal damnation, but I guess this is it," Tsukune said, his face flushed as Moka's grip tightened slightly.

"I'm scared, but... If we're together, then I'm sure we can manage," Moka said, smiling awkwardly.

"Well, we'd better get a move on before Senpai gets bored of waiting and starts cruising through Hell on his own," Yukari said as she grabbed onto Moka's other hand, instantly shattering the mood.

"Y-Yeah. That would be... awful," Moka said unconvincingly before she stepped forward into the portal with Yukari and a very disappointed Tsukune.

* * *

Emerging in Hell was, honestly, exactly as Tsukune had imagined, save for the lack of horrified screaming and agonizing death. A blast of hot air struck him in the face, and he was forced to shut his eyes to protect them from the burning ashes being carried by the gust.

After the hot breeze had passed, he cracked open his eyes.

He was in a cavern about the size of a large room, with the "walls" being massive, jagged stalagmites jutting up in great clusters. These rocks were a patchwork of dull reds and ashen gray, and covered in webs of bright red seams that glowed brightly in the gloom.

On that note, there was apparently no sunlight in Hell; all the local light came from the glowing rocks and several small, scattered pits of magma that bubbled and churned across the ground. The sky was an oppressive, smoke-filled sheet that seemed to perpetually rain flecks of ash and twinkling sparks, and the charcoal clouds hung low enough for some of the taller stalagmites to reach up into the ashen miasma, their peaks obscured by the massive, shadowy cloud.

"Not as bad as I thought," said Ranma's voice, and Tsukune turned in place as he squinted against the dusty air, "I was expecting a lot more screaming."

Ranma had wrapped a handkerchief around his mouth, but otherwise seemed unbothered by the environment.

Kouma stood next to the martial artist, his arms crossed over his chest. "Well, keep in mind that we're just at the entrance to Hell. The real thing is still ahead." Although he sounded rather grim, his tail had appeared and was wagging steadily, betraying his excitement.

"Ugh! It smells terrible!" Moka complained as she walked up next Tsukune.

"Eh, it's still better than most locker rooms," Yukari mumbled as she flipped through a small spell book. "Here we go. Wind shield!"

Tsukune couldn't help but be envious as the dust and ash around Yukari suddenly exploded off of her, leaving the young witch in a bubble of clean air while the dusty air currents parted before her.

Ultimately though, all he could do was mimic Ranma by tying his own handkerchief over his mouth.

"So was that a town portal scroll?" Yukari asked as she joined Ranma and Kouma.

"Yup. It'll stay there until I step through it again," Kouma explained as he pointed to the large blue oval floating over the cracked ground behind them.

"But if you used it that way, then that would make Hell-"

"My home, yeah," Kouma finished.

"And so Youkai Academy would be-"

"The ugly pit of murderous freaks that I beat up for cash and loot," Kouma finished again.

"You're not supposed to be doing that!" Tsukune protested, having secured his handkerchief around his mouth and nose. The air was still painfully hot and dry for his lungs, but at least it kept him from coughing from inhaling the ash.

"Relax, it's not like they didn't have it coming," Kouma assured him, "now if everyone's ready, we should get going. I have no idea how long any of you can really survive breathing this air without choking to death."

The rest of the group wordlessly followed Kouma, each curious (despite themselves, in Tsukune and Moka's case) as to just what kind of horrors awaited them in this blasted, wretched wasteland.

They all had to admit that their first taste was a profound disappointment.

"Man, I know you told me what they did with this place, but still," Ranma said, shaking his head, "this is just sad."

The party was standing in front of a large, high wall, apparently made out of the same substance as the rocks, with a gap in it that constituted the gates.

The gates consisted of walkway through a metal detector, with a security camera watching the walkway. Standing in front of it was a single portly Caucasian man in a security guard's uniform looking quite surprised, though singularly unhappy, to see people approaching him.

"See what I mean? This place used to MEAN something," the hellhound murmured under his breath. "Anyway, let me handle this."

Kouma stepped up ahead of the others, drawing his ID card out of his pocket. "Checking in. They're all with me."

The guard wordlessly took the card, and held it up as he meticulously looked it over. "And what brings you to the realm of damnation today, Mister Gamaroshi?"

"That would be... Black Citadel repair. They're my engineering crew," Kouma said, snapping up the first excuse he could think of.

The guard frowned as he glanced at the group. "You look like a bunch of kids."

"It's an apprenticeship," Yukari lied before Tsukune had a chance to panic or Ranma had a chance to say something stupid, "with the economy the way it is nowadays, you have to start early."

"Right," the man mumbled as he went back to scrutinizing the card.

"So... What're you in for?" Ranma asked.

"I used to work as a ticketing agent at an airline in the States," the guard said in a dull monotone, "sometimes I would deliberately send a passenger's luggage on the wrong flight, sending it to some other state or even country."

"That's it? That seems kind of tame to earn eternal hellfire," Ranma pointed out, feeling somewhat worried about the strict standards.

The man sighed as he flipped the card around. "I only did it to black people."

As Ranma and Tsukune winced, Yukari scratched her head.

"Wait, racism is a damnable offense now?"

"It would seem so. So you can either be nicer to monstrels or suffer for all time," Tsukune warned the young witch.

Yukari clicked her tongue. "Tough choice."

"Okay, this looks fine to me," the guard finally said, handing the card back to Kouma grudgingly.

"After only inspecting the whole thing three times over? Are you sure? We wouldn't want you to be accused of being sloppy," Kouma mocked, which Tsukune certainly could have appreciated more if they weren't, in fact, using an invalid means of infiltrating Hell under the noses of its rulers.

The guard snorted. "You're good. Your friends are all going to have to fill out guest entry forms, though."

As Kouma and Yukari groaned, Tsukune nodded, finding the requirement entirely reasonable. 'Maybe we should use false names,' he thought to himself, 'I have no idea how seriously Hell takes security breaches and absconding with the dead, but to be safe-'

Tsukune's thoughts on safety and discretion were suddenly interrupted by high-velocity irony, presently taking the form of a chunk of brimstone Ranma suddenly kicked into the camera, ripping it off its mount and sending it bouncing away.

"Hey, what are-" the guard started to stutter in surprise before Ranma suddenly tackled him, wrestling the man to the ground.

"Hey, Eyebrows! Finish this guy off!" Ranma shouted as he pounded the extremely confused sentry in the jaw before rolling off.

Kouma was just as surprised as anyone by the sudden outbreak of violence, but at least it was the sort of surprise he could easily adapt to. Without questioning why this was happening or why Tsukune was stuttering in a panic, Kouma's fist bloomed into a quivering fireball before he leapt at the hapless spirit.

_BWOOM!_ Tsukune gaped as the guard was swallowed by flames and glowing red shrapnel, which didn't actually look much different from the rest of the infernal landscape.

It seemed to be effective though, since when the smoke cleared there was nothing left of the man save a melting police baton slowly rolling under Ranma and Kouma, who were high-fiving each other.

"All right! We're in!" Ranma cheered.

"Ha! No sweat!" Kouma said with a rather uncommon grin. "By the way, why did we just do that?"

"That's what I want to know!" Tsukune shouted, throwing his arms up in the air. "Why did you attack?"

"That guy was going to make us fill out forms," Ranma said irritably as he crossed his arms over his chest, "probably in triplicate."

"Quadruplicate," Kouma corrected.

"What? Why would they even need that many?"

"We're in HELL. Get used to it."

"Wait, no. Don't get sidetracked," Tsukune demanded sternly, pushing aside his initial shock to try and take control of the situation, "why did you think that killing that man was okay just to avoid filling out paperwork? I'd expect this from Chopper or Keito, but not from you, Ranma!"

Ranma stepped back in surprise, clearly not expecting to be reprimanded. "But he was already dead!"

"That doesn't mat-" Tsukune suddenly stopped. "Wait... Actually, I guess that does matter."

"Besides, the guy already ended up in Hell. The forces of the universe decided he was enough of a jerk to suffer for the rest of existence, so it's not like he was innocent," Yukari pointed out. "Unless, of course, you doubt the objective good will of a universe that punishes us forever based on breaking the arbitrary rules apparently established by a creator capable of forcing us to follow such rules from the start. But that would be silly."

After several seconds of awkward and uncomfortable contemplation, Moka finally thought of something to ask Kouma.

"Kouma, what happens to people who die when they're already in Hell?"

As everyone showed considerable interest in this question, the hellhound was quite embarrassed to shrug helplessly.

"I have no idea. There are theories, but they're kind of all over the place. It just depends on what you believe."

"You... have religions in Hell?" Tsukune asked, coming to the logical conclusion of Kouma's last statement.

"Yeah, and they're all the touchy, super sensitive religions always getting up in arms about stupid stuff and splitting into different sects over the smallest little detail. Naturally," he grumbled, "but basically, nobody has any real idea what happens when someone in Hell dies."

* * *

"Hurgh!" Donald Jackson, damned spirit and former airline employee, suddenly felt a lurching sensation as his spiritual projection was sent hurtling out of a swirling red portal, finding himself skidding to a stop on what appeared to be an inch-thick layer of ash.

Raising his head in alarm, he started glancing from side to side frantically, completely confused as to what was going on.

The surroundings were, in fact, hardly much different from those he had just left; ash floated through the air, though there seemed to be more of it. Jagged stalagmites running with more red, volcanic veins than back in Hell were scattered about just as before, but in more places. The ground, in the few places it hadn't been completely covered by choking ash, bubbled with lava pits roughly twice as large as Donald was used to.

"Where am I? What is this?" he asked, not really expecting a response.

"You're in Double Hell," answered a deep voice behind him.

Whirling around, Donald found the not unfamiliar sight of a large, black humanoid with massive, curved horns, with its lower body resembling that of a goat.

He was also treated to the somewhat more unfamiliar sight of an identical monster standing behind the first one, stroking its pointed black beard.

"You're not serious," Donald grumbled, less horrified than annoyed.

"We get that a lot," said the second devil, shrugging, "but we are."

"Get up and follow me," commanded the first devil as he turned and beckoned over his shoulder, "you have twice the penance to get through now."

"Will I have to guard an easily breachable gateway by myself?" the resigned spirit asked.

"Nope. Now you have to guard TWO."

"Son of a bitch!"

* * *

"Actually, now that I think about it, what happens if WE die?" Yukari asked as she trudged along the jagged terrain next to Moka.

The five high schoolers were now trekking through what Kouma insisted was the main road through Hell to reach the primary facilities. The path was only notable for having slightly smaller stalagmites and lava pits in the way, although Ranma guessed that was mostly because the outer gateway wasn't used very often.

Kouma glanced over his shoulder to answer Yukari. "No biggie. We'll just pick you up along with this Jikan guy. It usually takes some time to get assigned to your torment after arriving, so we'll probably catch you at the assignment office that we're headed toward anyway."

"So we can die with pretty much zero consequences?" Ranma asked, sounding way too intrigued for Tsukune's comfort.

Moka frowned. "What if we're not sent to Hell, though?"

Kouma suddenly stopped, nearly stumbling over a patch of thorn-like rocks. "If you... oh. OH. You mean, like, if you were good and would go to Heaven?" It was obvious by the way he asked that the elemental canine hadn't even considered the possibility. "Okay, yeah, then you're screwed. So Tsukune is gonna need to watch out."

Tsukune blanched. "Just me? What about Moka?" he demanded as the vampiress nodded nervously.

"Vampires are automatic," Kouma said. When Moka started glowering him, he threw his arms up in the air. "What do you want from me? You're damned from the get-go! I don't make the rules!"

"What about Ranma?" Tsukune demanded next.

"Don't make me answer that," Kouma deadpanned.

"Hey!" shouted Ranma to little effect.

"Well, what about Yu..." Tsukune trailed off, "all right, fine. So everyone else is safe," the young human grumbled.

"These standards are too high! This is discrimination of people who happen to like discrimination!" Yukari complained, flailing her arms about. "Our spiritual karma should have a freedom of expression clause! They're condemning an idea!"

Kouma finally started moving again, moving up a steep incline marked by small streams of lava oozing out of glowing holes in the ground.

"All right, now watch out for steam vents and hellworms," the canine warned.

"'Hellworms'? That sounds like some kind of arterial parasite," Yukari mumbled.

"They are, in the sense that they try to get in your bloodstream when they attack," Kouma explained, "of course, most of them are thicker than your arm, Sendo, so they don't really measure up to the 'parasite' thing."

"Where do they live?" Ranma asked, glancing around at the small crevices and numerous smoldering holes that were located on the larger stalagmites. As he searched, he noticed a small, red, winged humanoid about the size of his head zipping about nearby, apparently checking the travelers from well out of arms' reach.

Kouma crested the incline and stepped up onto a cliff, looking out over a vast, blasted wasteland that spat flames into the air periodically. "They live in those little lava streams, just inside the pocket where the lava spills out. It should be fine as long as you don't disturb them somehow."

Ranma climbed up behind the others, but his eyes were locked on the small red creature. It had landed near a pile of smoldering rocks, and started digging through it before picking one up and leaping back into the air.

Then it flew up to a good height and hurled the rock at the incline.

"Whoa!" Yukari flinched back as the stone struck directly into the mouth of one of the lava spigots, almost splashing her with droplets of molten rock.

Ranma stepped up immediately behind her, just in case the witch started to fall or got burned. "Are you okay? That little punk almost got you!"

"Yeah, I'm fine, it didn't-" Yukari's annoyed reassurance was cut short as something suddenly burst from the lava spigot, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

It was a solid, dark red, with a long, rubbery body, just like a worm. Its head was decidedly unlike a worm though, sporting a gaping maw similar to a shark's, full of jagged teeth.

"Watch it!" Ranma shouted, immediately springing forward and grabbing onto the beast's body as it tried to curl around and bite Yukari.

"See? Hellworm," Kouma said, gesturing to the horrid creature as it snapped ferociously at Yukari, who was staggering backwards in her haste to get away from it.

"That is MUCH thicker than Yukari's arm!" Moka complained as she and Tsukune watched the scene in horror.

"Yeah, okay, maybe it's closer to my arm. It's been a while since I was last here," the hellhound admitted with a shrug.

"Stop thrashing around!" Ranma growled as he pulled the hellworm away from Yukari, trying to grab the beast near its head. It was difficult enough just because of the creature's impressive strength, but its skin was also searing hot, probably as a result of coming out of a lava pit.

Yanking it back with one hand, Ranma used the other to seize the hellworm right behind its jaws, finally taking the hateful beast completely out of lunging range of Yukari.

"Are you all right?" Tsukune asked, descending enough to help Yukari up atop the cliff.

"Y-Yeah. Just a little sh-shaken," the young witch said, letting Tsukune help her up onto flat ground, "why is it only going after me? Senpai's the one holding it!"

"Hellworms, like most hell-fauna, instinctively attack the weakest, youngest, and most sinful target," Kouma explained like he was playing the part of a tour guide.

Yukari grimaced as she stared at the hellworm Ranma was still holding firmly while it leered at her, its long, serpentine body lazily swinging back and forth as it curled and coiled in the air. "That's not fair! I only dabble in two, MAYBE three of the seven deadly sins!"

"Yeah, well, you kind of overdo 'lust' for someone who hasn't hit puberty yet," Ranma quipped as the hellworm suddenly swung its body hard to one side, its tail curling up into the air, "hm? Hey, what is it-"

_Shwack!_ Everyone was fairly shocked when the hellworm suddenly whipped its long, powerful body across the fifteen-foot, uphill gap between Ranma and Yukari, striking the witch with enough force to knock her clean off her feet and off of the edge of the cliff.

"Why didn't I prepare FEATHER FAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL?" Yukari screamed as she started plummeting toward the ground, holding her hat to her head largely out of reflex.

"Well... she's dead," Kouma mumbled as Tsukune and Moka cried out in shock. He was reasonably surprised, however, that Ranma had other ideas.

The pigtailed boy blasted past the others in a red blur and then dove straight off the edge of the cliff, bringing his hands together in a flawless dive that would have been quite praiseworthy if he was diving toward water rather than jagged stone laced with lava veins.

"Wait! Ranma! There's no point! We'll just get her later!" Kouma called down, though it was quite obvious by now that Ranma couldn't exactly reverse course.

Tsukune crouched down next to the edge of the cliff. "Ranma! If you can throw her back up, I'll catch her!" he shouted, ever confident in his roommate's superhuman abilities.

True to form, Ranma soon reached the flailing Yukari, who was falling slightly slower thanks to the drag on her cape.

"Gotcha!" Ranma shouted as he latched onto Yukari's arm.

Then he started to spin in the air, swinging her around him in a wide circle.

"CATCH!" Ranma called as he let go of the witch, sending her flying upward with only slightly less screaming than she emitted on the way down.

"Almost..." Tsukune mumbled as he started stretching his hand down, trying to judge where he could catch Yukari without losing his balance and being pulled down himself.

He suddenly felt someone take hold of his arm, and glanced backward as Moka gave him a determined nod and braced herself to hold him steady.

Kouma took hold of his other shoulder, though he looked reluctant. "This is a complete waste of effort, you know. I actually would have ENJOYED not having to listen to her all the way to the offices..."

Tsukune ignored him, and he let himself fall forward as Yukari reached the peak of her ascent, reaching down and grabbing her around her waist while Moka and Kouma kept him from falling himself. "All right! Hold on to me!"

Yukari did so, attaching herself to the human boy's torso like a life preserver as they were both pulled up onto the cliff.

"Well, we saved ourselves from having to pick her up at the place we're going anyway. Good job, team," Kouma deadpanned as the human and witch collapsed onto the ground, overwhelmed with relief. Then he glanced down the slope they had just climbed. "Dick move, by the way."

The hellworm, which seemed to be staring up the incline despite a distinct lack of eyes, made a "Tch!" noise before it slunk back into its lava flow.

"What do we do about Ranma? Is he going to be okay?" Moka asked as she hugged a hyperventilating Yukari to her chest.

Kouma snorted. "If something like an enormous fall into jagged, burning rocks were enough to kill him, I'm pretty sure none of you would be alive right now."

Tsukune nodded, looking somewhat pleased (though it was hard to tell with the handkerchief over his mouth). "We should wait here for him to get back. I'm sure he could manage to get up the cliff on his own."

_Rrrrrrrrrrrumble..._

"What... What's that?" Moka asked nervously.

Kouma shrugged. "Lava eruption. We get them every few hours or so. Usually in incredibly inconvenient places."

Tsukune frowned as he felt the ground tremble beneath him. "So, should we move, or-"

_BWOOOOM!_ He was entirely cut off as an enormous explosion sounded from far below, and Tsukune whirled around as a bright pillar of flame rocketed up past the very edge of the cliff, scorching and blinding him before he stumbled back.

There were a few more explosions from below, though none were as impressive, and Tsukune watched in horror as several more fireballs blasted upward past the cliff edge to shoot into the sky. Moka clung to him in fear as great tongues of flame swept over the ledge, and Yukari pulled her hat down over her head as she curled up into a ball and waited for the shaking to stop.

It was almost a full minute after the roaring explosions died down before Tsukune finally opened his eyes again. His body, as well as that of Moka and Yukari, was blackened with soot and peppered with dying embers. The edge of the cliff glowed red from the heat it was subjected to, and the view from the cliff into the valley below was completely blocked out by rising columns of thick black smoke from below.

Kouma was standing at the edge of the cliff as if he had not budged during the entire eruption, and looked supremely annoyed.

"Great, so now we have to make the same trip that we already had to make to rescue a teammate, except we lose Saotome rather than Sendo. Perfect," the hellhound grumbled as he turned around.

Tsukune and the others were too stunned to respond as Kouma walked past, his every step kicking up glowing embers and puffs of ash.

"Hey, let's get a move on! Before they decide to make him do something REALLY awful, like re-live his childhood over and over," Kouma demanded.

_'I can't believe Ranma was finally taken out by an environmental hazard,'_ Evil Moka complained as her counterpart stumbled to her feet, _'not to mention I won't even be able to gloat about it until the next time Tsukune tries to feel us up. There's no justice in this world.'_

* * *

Ranma whistled as he stared at the roiling column of smoke.

"Whoah. That was intense."

He was currently standing at the mouth of a cavern that had been drilled into the face of the cliff, having been drawn in right as the earthquake (Hellquake?) had started. Smoke leaked into the hole from the toxic column outside, but the cavern sloped upward so that it didn't fill the entire cave and make it totally uninhabitable for the pigtailed boy.

"Thanks for the hand back there, Mister magma spider!" Ranma said, glancing behind him.

Standing behind the martial artist, poised at the edge of a web made of glittering orange strands, was an eight-legged beast the size of a horse that seemed to be made of igneous rock riven with veins of flowing lava. It had half a dozen eyes - curiously human-like, with eyelids, pupils, and blazing red irises - and scythe-like fangs that looked like tempered blades.

"It is my honor to serve, my lord," the magma spider intoned, its voice echoing grandly and seeming to originate from no particular spot on its body, "it is fortuitous that I was poised to devour the small one with the cape, or I might not have recognized you in time."

"Uh... Yeah, okay. Thanks," Ranma mumbled, wondering why the hellbeast recognized him and why it seemed to revere him. Maybe it was someone killed at Youkai Academy? If that was the case, he didn't recognize the monster, which was rather embarrassing considering it referred to him as "my lord". Ranma decided to just keep quiet about it.

"I was shocked to see you in this land, my lord," the magma spider continued, its many eyes blinking against the smoke flowing over it, "have the forces of Heaven truly gone so far as to forsake their chosen descendant? Is it time that we who crawl rise up and seize this blasted land for the sake of the gods?"

Ranma was only getting more confused the longer the spider-thing spoke, so he decided to hurry and answer. "I'm not actually dead. I'm just here to pick up a guy who we didn't want killed and take him back to Earth."

The magma spider's eyes all widened simultaneously. "You march into the land of the damned and revive the dead?"

Ranma shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much. This is my first time doing it though, so I don't know if it'll work."

"As expected of our lord," the magma spider said reverently, "a moment, please. I have something for you."

Ranma was getting slightly worried about his friends atop the cliff, but didn't want to be rude to the monster that had saved his life and apparently deferred to him like some sort of human god (silly idea as that was).

The magma spider crawled up its web, disappearing briefly in the swirling black smoke that had gathered in the top portion of the hellbeast's lair.

When it descended again, Ranma was fairly stunned to see a familiar hairy brown figure clutching onto the magma spider's thorax.

"Hey, is that Ken? It is you!" Ranma said cheerfully as the large brown tarantula - though with a leg span barely equivalent to a dinner plate, he was decidedly puny compared to the elemental spider carrying him - wiggled his pedipalps excitedly. "I was wondering what happened to you, little buddy!"

"Your servant met his untimely end at the hands of the accursed false gods, may their lying facades melt away before your righteous aura," the magma spider growled.

Ranma once again had no clue what the hellbeast was talking about, so he cheerfully ignored it as he held out his hand for Ken to crawl onto. "Well, I'm really glad you took care of him! Thanks again! I'll take him back with me to Earth."

As the lesser arachnid scuttled over his shoulder and onto his back, Ranma asked, "So why was he in Hell anyway? Some kind of spider sin?"

"The creator did not exactly endow the arachnid family with great fortune upon our inception," the magma spider explained bitterly, "in terms of afterlives, we are largely confined to either this hellplane - mostly as torment props for the arachnophobic damned - or the Demonweb Pits."

Ranma didn't know what the "Demonweb Pits" were, but they didn't sound much more unpleasant than Hell itself. "And you chose Hell?"

"Whether you worship her or not, there is really no getting around the fact that Lolth is a raging, psychotic bitch. At least here they treat us like dumb animals and leave us alone most of the time. It's really not so bad after you evolve a lava-based form."

"Well, SOME people seem to like it here, I guess," Ranma mumbled, thinking of Kouma, "anyway, I should go catch up with my friends. There's a good chance they'll die without me. And then I'd have to go get them along with the first guy, which would be a hassle."

"Understood, my lord," the magma spider intoned, "may you tread safely on your travels. Death to the whiskered devils!"

"Yeah, sure, screw those guys," Ranma mumbled as he walked up to the mouth of the cavern and latched onto the upper lip, feeling that it was cool enough to hold. "Goodbye! Thanks for returning my spider!"

From there it was a rather quick climb to the top of the cliff, as the explosions from earlier had torn great gashes and holes in the rock and left a number of good handholds.

Once he reached the top, Ranma was disappointed, though not totally surprised, to see that there was no one waiting for him.

"The damn ash in the air covers up the footprints, too," Ranma mumbled, kneeling down and finding no trace of his friends' passage, "which way did they go?"

Ken suddenly hissed in irritation, and Ranma glanced upward.

His gaze hardened as he saw the little bat-winged imp from before who had precipitated Yukari's fall off the cliff. It was flittering about several meters in the air, and giggling as if the whole last ten minutes were just a big joke to it.

"You ever had mini-devil before, Ken?" Ranma asked as he kicked at a cracked stalagmite, knocking a bit of stone up into his hand.

The imp stopped giggling, and then turned around in the air and pointed its ass at Ranma before slapping its own rump repeatedly.

Ranma put down the stone he was holding and instead ripped the stalagmite out of the ground.

The imp froze as it watched the human lift the torso-sized chunk of stone over his head like it was a beach ball.

"What's wrong? Not funny when it happens to you?" Ranma asked as he hurled it toward the obnoxious hellspawn.

The imp veered out of the way, but that hardly took Ranma by surprise, and he kicked the smaller stone he had dropped earlier as the little red troublemaker strained to avoid the veritable brimstone comet.

_Thwack!_ The second stone struck it square in the forehead, sending the imp reeling.

"All right, you little bastard, you're mine!" Ranma crowed as he started down the incline leading up to the cliff, although he had to slow down so as not to disturb the hellworms no doubt resting in the many lava spigots.

The imp had just enough time to recover and bolt into the air, barely getting enough altitude so that Ranma's fingers merely grazed its legs as the martial artist leapt up to try and seize it.

Ranma landed hard, and then promptly started coughing. Regardless of how tough and resilient he was, Hell had a very poor atmosphere and his breath didn't come easily. "Get back here, punk!" he shouted between coughs, sprinting after the rapidly escaping creature as his pet spider clung to his back, hissing angrily.

* * *

"And here we have Cavern of the Damned, in which the spirits of sinners are hung upside-down and wrapped in thorny vines," Kouma said as he entered a dark tunnel, lit only by the occasional small lava pits that bubbled away on the floor of the cave.

Tsukune and Moka entered silently, the latter gripping the former's hand tightly as he sullenly led her around the lava holes and other terrain hazards. Yukari followed the pair closely, constantly glancing around nervously.

"Up above you can see the countless souls undergoing eternal penance for their transgressions against their God. Not exactly sure what transgression, specifically; wasn't really my department. Probably lying on their taxes or something," Kouma mused, gesturing up to the ceilings where hundreds of tightly-packed people swung and writhed about in pain as the thorn-covered bonds dug into their naked bodies, "every few hours a few of the devil grunts comes along and swats a few of 'em like pinatas, and that causes them to smack into each other, which increases their suffering considerably. So don't ever lie on your taxes."

Kouma looked somewhat annoyed as the others said nothing in response to his tour guide routine, and eventually continued.

"You may have noticed that there's a lot of 'places of the Damned' around here. It's not really supposed to try to make it sound scary or anything, but rather it's a simple designator, like how government buildings will be called 'federal' or 'municipal' to mark who they belong to and what they're used for. So the Cavern, Lake, Pit, Untreated Septic Tank, and Cubicle Farm of the Damned are all places specifically for the torment of sinners, while all the areas labeled 'Devil's', like the Devil's Playground, Proving Grounds, and Freestyle Skateboard Park are all for Hell's worker devils to use when not busy dishing out egregious penance."

Still Tsukune and the girls said nothing, and a vein popped up on Kouma's head.

"So, do you guys wanna see anything while you're here?" Kouma asked, turning around while crossing his arms over his chest, "maybe see a sentencing? Visit an ancestor? Oh, how about we go see the torment of Adolph Hitler? People always get a kick out of that. Or any historical villain, really. Take your pick!"

"Take us to that office, Kouma," Tsukune deadpanned, "no detours."

"Fine, I will, but will you all stop being so mopey?" Kouma said, throwing his arms up into the air. "This is my first trip home in years and you guys are being total downers!"

"My best friend just died," Tsukune said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, so what? We're going to get him right now!" Kouma countered. "Considering how often he picks fights with eldritch horrors, you should be happy that he happened to bite it in the one situation where it's really easy to bring him back!"

Tsukune just glowered wordlessly at the hellhound, so Kouma tried appealing to Moka. "Look, you can't say he didn't have it coming. I warned him about how dangerous this was, and he KNEW that Sendo would be easy to revive! This is the sort of dumb, reckless behavior that annoys you the most about him, right?"

"He didn't deserve to die for saving Yukari," the vampiress said simply.

"That's arguable, but whatever," Kouma mumbled, "Sendo, didn't you want to explore a bit more? Like, to document the secrets of the universe that I've been revealing pretty much non-stop since we got here?"

"I've had enough of this place," Yukari said, shuddering, "I just want to make sure Senpai is all right and then get back to our own world where misery is arbitrary and often inversely proportional to a person's karma."

"Man... You guys are seriously ruining this whole trip," the hellhound complained as he started leading them forward again, unaware of how hard Tsukune was working not to scream at him.

"If it's any consolation," Moka mumbled half-heartedly, "the other Moka thinks that this is all very interesting and wants to know what sort of punishment violent, cocksure martial artists can expect."

"Thanks, that does cheer me up a bit," Kouma said, hopping over another lava pit, "but like I said, that's not really my department. We'll have to ask the assignment office when we get there."

'Must stay quiet. Must stay quiet. Kouma is the key to getting this done. Cannot berate him,' Tsukune thought fervently, biting his dry lips.

The group continued through the cavern to the exit, eventually emerging into a fairly narrow pathway winding through a series of huge lava pits that provided much more light than the cavern.

Ahead of them was a fairly short man with dark skin and curly hair that extended from his head to a thick, curly beard that he frequently combed a hand through in order to clean out the collected ashes. He wore sandals and a toga, and was striding purposefully toward the cavern they had just left.

"Hey Jesus," Kouma said casually, nodding his head as he passed the son of God.

"Peace be with you," Jesus Christ said, bowing his head briefly before he headed on his way.

The group moved on, heading further on down the walkway for several more minutes until Kouma suddenly whirled around.

"Okay, seriously? NOBODY is even going to say anything?" he demanded. "We just passed Jesus FREAKING Christ, and you all are so absorbed by the temporary loss of Ranma that you aren't even curious?"

Tsukune looked annoyed by the outburst. "Well, it doesn't matter much to me. I'm not Christian."

"I'd kind of hope that after visiting Hell itself and seeing the horrors inflicted upon unrepentant sinners that you'd consider converting," Kouma deadpanned.

Tsukune sighed wearily, obviously thinking of this conversation as a chore. "Kouma, can you tell me why Jesus isn't in Heaven?"

The hellhound perked up instantly as he started moving down the path again. "Actually, he does live in Heaven. In fact it's a sore point with his dad that he keeps coming down here."

The group walked in silence for several seconds before Moka reluctantly asked, "Why would he visit this place?"

"Well, that's the funny thing about Christ," Kouma said as he turned at a fork in the path, leading the group away from a towering black fortress that loomed in the distance, "he's always been into the martyrdom and redemption thing. So instead of spending all his time in Heaven playing harps or whatever, he sneaks down into Hell and frees the tormented souls, redeeming them and sometimes engaging in epic Kung-Fu duels with the devil legions."

Kouma gestured to several bare iron pillars stuck in the lava. "See those? Normally there are damned souls chained to them and being constantly seared from the heat. Jesus just heads in and messes up all the torture, all the while preaching about righteousness and light and whatever. He's like Hell's Osama Bin Laden."

Kouma suddenly stopped and snapped his fingers. "Hey, that's right! The Americans got that guy, didn't they? We should track him down and see what-"

"KOUMA," Tsukune said through clenched teeth, "hurry up and take us to where Ranma is."

"Gladly," Kouma muttered bitterly, "since apparently you guys are a total drag if he isn't around. Hmph."

* * *

"Get - huff! - back here - huff! - you little - huff! - pudgy brat!"

Ranma was breathing hard as he jogged around a large, flat-topped stalagmite, the little imp hovering ahead of him just out of reach.

Although initially it had been worried about the impressive abilities of the mortal, once it had taken Ranma's measure - particularly his difficulty breathing in the dry, ash-filled air - it had turned the vengeful pursuit into a merry game, and cackled delightfully at Ranma's frustration.

"Keep giggling, pipsqueak," Ranma growled as he wiped a sheen of sweat off his brow, "one misstep and you're headed straight to... wherever people go when they die in Hell."

The imp, either because of the threat or because it just wanted to make Ranma angrier, suddenly shot up into the air and then landed atop the stalagmite, grinning wickedly as it stuck its tongue out at its pursuer.

"Oh, think you're safe up there, do you?" Ranma asked.

The imp cackled.

"Get him, Ken," Ranma said with a smirk.

The imp's laughter died a horrible painful death right before it did the same, courtesy of Ranma's deceased pet spider which had been dropped off there earlier to wait in ambush. Ken leapt onto the miniature devil from behind, clinging to its leathery red skin while its fangs sunk deep into the imp's neck and filled the flailing creature with venom.

Ranma sighed as he sat down at the base of the stalagmite, ignoring the agonized squeals and hateful hissing as he stared at the gloomy horizon.

In the distance he could see a large black fortress, which was really the only structure large enough to be seen over the choking gray clouds that wafted through the underworld like floating, slow-motion rivers.

"Well, they'd probably do all the admin stuff inside, right? Might as well do it all in a castle," Ranma mused.

He hopped up to his feet, feeling somewhat refreshed by the brief rest, though he was terribly thirsty. "Ken, finish up and let's get a move on!"

The giant spider stabbed his fangs deep into the twitching, rubbery imp body, and took nearly a minute slurping up his victim's blood and bile before lightly pushing the withered husk off to the side, letting it roll down the side of the stalagmite before he crawled back down to his master.

Collecting his spider from the rocks, Ranma started jogging in the direction of the castle.

* * *

The Torment Assignment Office was built into a series of hollowed-out caverns in the side of what was probably a volcano (if for no other reason than Tsukune couldn't see the top and it seemed like EVERY mountain in Hell was a volcano). It was fairly easy to spot on approach, as there were a number of large red humanoids leading struggling naked people away in a constant stream, which one would have expected from the "original" entrance to Hell.

"All right, now you all should wait here," Kouma said, halting them, "I'll go and get the info on where Ranma and Jikan are, assuming Ranma isn't still waiting to be processed."

"I want to go too," Tsukune insisted, "maybe I can-"

"AONO," Kouma said loudly, startling the others with his suddenly serious tone, "look, I know you're worried about Ranma, and you have that whole 'human diplomacy' bonus going for you, and I respect that. Really. But this is the infernal underworld, and they play rough here," the hellhound explained, "if things go wrong somehow, it's much better for you to be here, where you can escape, than in the office, where you'll be surrounded. Like we discussed, I won't be able to get to your afterlife."

Tsukune grimaced. "I never imagined that eternal reward for being a decent person would be such a problem."

"Twisted irony is our specialty," Kouma agreed, "now wait here."

* * *

"Man, doesn't the devil ever get thirsty? I haven't seen any sign of water since we got here," Ranma complained as he trudged across the cracked wasteland, his pet spider still clinging to his back, "why didn't I think to bring any water down here? This sucks."

In front of Ranma loomed the giant black fortress, although it still seemed a great distance away. With the physical limitations brought on by the horrid environment and increasingly severe thirst he couldn't sprint there, and he found an ordinary pace of travel annoyingly slow.

He was fairly engrossed in his grumbling, to the extent that he wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings until some of his surroundings started shouting at him.

"Hey! Hey you! You're not a devil, right? Help me!"

Ranma was startled out of his thoughts, and promptly noted there was a pit of black sand that was set just off the path ahead, hardly distinguishable from the cracked black wasteland surrounding it but for the fact that it didn't have thick, glowing veins of lava seeping through it.

There was also a head poking out of the sand. A man's head, of vaguely Asian descent, with flesh that was dried and scorched to the extent that there were actually thin plumes of smoke rising from his skin.

Ranma promptly jogged over to pit, looking alarmed. "Whoa, are you okay?"

"I've been baking in sand for years, do you think I'm okay?" the man snapped as Ranma crouched down next to him, "look, just hel-GYAAAH! On your back! What the here is that?"

Ranma blinked. "What, Ken? He's my spider. Relax, he won't hurt you." He dug his hands down into the black obsidian grains, grimacing as he felt the heat for himself. The sand felt hot as coals, and as he moved his hands through it, he could also feel larger, sharp grains that would prick his skin like thorns.

"It's n-not like I'm scared of spiders at this point, exactly, but why is it on you?" the man asked.

"He's just a pet. Now hold on." Ranma finally dug deep enough to take hold of the damned soul's shoulder, and grunted as he pulled the tortured spirit free of his prison, glittering black sand spilling over the ground all around them.

As soon as the man was free, he promptly fell to his knees with an expression of intense relief, apparently forgetting all about Ranma's spider for the moment.

Ranma watched him closely (at least, Ranma watched his upper torso closely; the man was naked), and noticed that the spirit's skin, which was burnt and shriveled for obvious reasons, seemed to recover before his eyes, expanding and turning a healthier shade.

"Wow, you heal fast," the martial artist remarked, somewhat envious.

The man panted heavily as he sluggishly moved himself off of the pit, Ranma right behind him. "It's so that we can feel our torment more keenly. It would not do if we were to ever get numb to the pain, I guess."

Ranma suddenly felt much less envious. "Oh, wow... Not good," he mumbled awkwardly, "so why'd you end up here? What'd you do wrong?"

"I cheated on my wife," the damned soul grumbled, "and I lied about it. Not too much besides that."

Ranma clicked his tongue. "You can't do that, man. It aint right."

"Yeah, thanks, I realized that after the first few days of baking like a damn pie," the adulterer grumbled, "anyway, thanks for granting me a few moments' rest from my torment. I'm sure a devil will be along soon to put me back in that pit."

As the man bowed glumly, Ranma shrugged. "Why don't you leave, then?"

"Huh? How? You can't just leave Hell," he insisted.

"Well, I just walked into it, and I don't see what you have to lose, here," Ranma said, scratching his head as he pointed behind him, "it's a bit of a walk, but if you go straight back, hang a right at the big plateau - there should be a dead imp there at the bottom - and then go down the steep incline with all the lava spouts and follow the lava streams, you should get to the gate. I took out the guard and there isn't a family of big scary Hell monsters guarding it anymore, so you should be home free until you reach the portal."

The man looked completely awestruck. "Are... Are you serious? I can escape? I can be FREE? How can I ever thank you?"

"Just don't cheat on your wife anymore, okay?" Ranma asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Pff, how can I do that?" scoffed the damned soul, "the marriage thing clearly stipulates 'til death do you part'. I bought it, so now I'm free of any religious obligation to hold this guy back!"

Ranma grimaced as the rescued spirit pointed at his own crotch. 'I think he might be missing the point, here,' the martial artist thought grimly. "Okay, well, if you won't do that, can you take my spider back with you and drop him off in the world of the living? I'm heading toward the big spooky castle and I don't want him to get killed. Again."

The man looked distinctly uncomfortable with this plan, but nodded reluctantly. "All right, fine. Give 'im here."

Ranma gestured sharply with his left arm out, and the tarantula scuttled over his shoulder and then out onto his arm, eventually climbing hesitantly onto the spirit's chest.

"Whoa... He, uh... kinda tickles," the man said, clearly nervous as he tried to work out where to hold the eight-legged beast.

"Now no biting, Ken," Ranma lectured into the tiny beady eyes atop the spider's head, "you just stick with the lowlife until you're back at the school, okay? And if anything happens, just make a break for it."

The tortured spirit probably would have complained (unironically) of his being described as a lowlife, but the man instead gasped and pointed behind Ranma.

"They're here! The devils! It's over!"

"What?" Ranma turned around, and frowned as he saw a dark shape approaching in the distance, barely visible thanks to the obscuring ash. "All right, I'll handle this, you go and-"

Ranma glanced back behind him, and sighed as he saw that the damned soul was already a good distance away, fleeing in the direction Ranma had indicated earlier.

"Well, at least he's taking Ken with him. Now let's see what this jerk wants."

Said "jerk" approached quickly, managing a loping jog that covered the cracked, flinty ground quite well. Once it was close enough for Ranma to make out, he could see that it was a large, red, male humanoid creature, boasting a thick musculature and a pair of twisting horns protruding from its brow. He had a whip-like tail about a meter long that thrashed back and forth like and unruly snake, and the creature was holding a bronze trident over his shoulder.

The hellbeast slowed quickly as he approached, looking quite confused at the sight of Ranma standing in the open and clearly waiting for him.

"Well, we don't have Miss Nekonome around to explain what you are, but I'm gonna guess 'devil'," Ranma said blandly.

The devil gave Ranma a curious look, and then snorted, a small cloud of flickering embers spurting from his nostrils. "Insolent mortal! Back to your penance!" Shouldering his weapon, the devil reached forward to seize Ranma with a large, clawed hand.

Ranma slapped the hand away. "Naw, I'm not doing time here. I'm just looking for... wait, what did Kouma call it?"

The devil snarled and swiped at Ranma's face, but the martial artist ducked before stepping back.

"It was some kind of office, does that ring a bell?"

"Your future torment increases with your every move, worm!" the devil hissed as he suddenly brought his trident down and stabbed it forward.

Ranma moved to the side, allowing the weapon to stab past him, and then seized the haft with one hand while one leg snapped up and struck the devil's arm, jarring the trident loose. Then in one smooth rotation Ranma brought the polearm back around before stabbing it into the shocked devil's abdomen.

"Now I remember!" Ranma said suddenly, brightening as steaming black fluids oozed from the new wounds in the hellbeast's stomach, "it was called the Torment Assignment-"

_Thud!_ Ranma trailed off as the devil fell over, the bronze trident wobbling unsteadily as its owner seemed to slowly boil away on the spot, leaving only a puddle of dark oil-like fluids and a bleached skeleton.

"Well, I'll just remember it for the next guy I find, then," Ranma murmured as he started on his trek again, "there's gotta be someone who knows where... wait, is that another sand pit?"

He frowned as he spotted another one of the torturous prisons on the side of the path, complete with a human head in the middle.

"Looks like I've got a lot of work to do," Ranma grumbled as he jogged ahead, leaving the crumbling bones of the devil behind him.

* * *

"Okay, look, I know I'm not supposed to be here, but I've got a reason," Kouma said, looking frustrated but surprisingly calm about it, "it's not like I'm hurting anyone, here. I just need to look up some info."

The creature he was speaking to was a very large devil with massive, elephantine legs and arms like industrial lifters.

"I don't know, Gamaroshi. I don't want this on my performance review," the devil grumbled, glancing next to them at the line of naked humans being dragged away by other devils, "you know how touchy Beelzebub can get during the end of the fiscal year, and my bonus-"

"Okay, look, I'll cut you a deal. You know I live in the human world now, right? I have access to all kinds of stuff," Kouma said with a smirk, "you do me a solid, and then you can contact me back in the land of the mortals and get me to send you something nice."

The guard devil looked startled by the proposition. "You mean like a PlayStation 2?"

Kouma snorted. "PlayStation 2, PlayStation 3, two PlayStation 1's, your call. Whaddya say?"

"I say nothing, because I saw nothing," said the devil, his gaze rising so that he was staring straight forward.

Kouma shook his head in contempt as he walked into the office, barely managing to keep clear of the long line of struggling mortals and growling devils.

'What a loser. Willingly breaching security for the sake of one of the humans' useless toys!' the hellhound thought. 'If it were me I would've disemboweled anyone who dared to bribe me! This place has gone straight to... well... someplace worse than Hell, I guess. Ah, there's the desk!'

Aside from the barely directed chaos of mortal souls being rapidly judged and dragged away screaming to their fates, there was a single window off to the side that was only used by the denizens of Hell to request information, rather than having a direct role in the judging and tormenting process.

Kouma walked up to the desk, which was manned by a single female devil who was delicately filing her horns, which curled down under her ears like a ram.

"Hello, I'd like to make an information request," Kouma said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm looking for a pair of souls."

The devil woman glanced at him, and then put down the rusted iron file she had been using. "Name?"

"The first is some schmuck named Jikan. Came in a little less than two months ago. Method of death was being flayed alive by a demon."

The devil woman nodded and snapped her fingers, causing a manila folder to appear on her desk in a puff of flame. "And what information in particular are you looking for?"

"What kind of punishment he's enduring, and where that sector is," Kouma answered.

"Sector H-17, being forever cut by jagged pendulum blades," she replied. "And the second soul?"

"A troublemaker named Saotome Ranma. Died about an hour or so ago. He might not actually be assigned yet."

The devil woman nodded. Then she stared straight forward for several seconds before frowning.

"Hmm. I'm not getting anything for that name," she mumbled.

Kouma suddenly staggered backward, and he felt his blood chill almost to room temperature. "But... No, that's impossible! The record must have gotten lost, or... or maybe it hasn't been processed yet!"

"The records are generated at the time of death, so that isn't an issue... unless, of course, he went to a different afterlife," the receptionist pointed out.

Kouma's jaw worked soundlessly, unable to form words as the full implications of what he was hearing dawned on him.

Ranma was gone. Dead. Permanently removed from the mortal coil. Neither he nor Tsukune or the two annoying, horny teenage girls back at Youkai Academy would ever see him again.

There was a part of him that wanted to be happy at the prospect, but he just couldn't be. For all Ranma's talent in annoying people, he was still someone who stood by Kouma and the Protection Committee when they needed him. He was benign, maybe even heroic.

This led the hellhound to yet another harrowing thought: why had he assumed Ranma would suffer for eternity? Ranma had perished saving Yukari with barely any thought to his own safety and regardless of all the trouble Yukari had caused him in the past. In fact, Ranma had ALWAYS been ready to put himself at risk to help others. In disregarding that, Kouma had spit on Ranma's kindness and sense of justice, and reduced the man's memory to that of an obnoxious clown.

"Ah, I see now," said the she-devil, "I checked Death's files. Mister Saotome isn't actually dead yet."

In an instant Kouma's guilt was washed away, and the hellhound slammed a fist down onto the countertop in front of him, causing a small burst of flames to shoot up. "That IDIOT! And he didn't even say anything before we left? What's wrong with him?"

The devil woman shrugged, looking completely uninterested in Kouma's outburst. "I can't say... Is there anyone else you need to find? Maybe Saotome Genma, his father?"

Kouma blinked, his anger vanishing. "His dad's dead?"

"Just a moment," the receptionist asked as she tilted her head to one side, "huh. Actually, no. Death has had a work order in place for more than a year now, but the soul is still in arrears."

Kouma quirked an eyebrow. "Seriously? That can happen?"

* * *

Genma Saotome strolled casually through the neighborhood on his way back to the Tendo household, ignoring the occasional pointing and staring from the few people around who weren't used to seeing a panda ambling along the sidewalk like it belonged there.

As he rounded a corner, the cursed martial artist halted, spotting something odd in the middle of the street.

It was a plate of rice balls and bamboo sticks, planted next to a sign that read "Free panda food" next to a rather large tree.

Genma glanced up at the tree's branches, noticing that there was a net poised over the plate of food, stretched between the branches and suspended by a rope.

That rope extended down to a peg that secured it tightly to the ground, while next to it a black-cloaked figure crouched in some bushes, a massive scythe held at the ready to cut the rope.

Genma's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Ambling up to the plate of food, Genma stopped just outside the net's radius, staring at the meal left out on the sidewalk.

Then he raised his arms up to either side, as if he was about to hug-tackle someone.

And then he swept his arms together, causing a sign with the words "Kishin raishu dan" on it to go flying off to the side.

More importantly, it also sent a wave of shimmering, razor-sharp air up into the tree, slicing through one of the branches that supported the rope. The net and the line holding it up dropped down, and then the line caught on another branch and swung the net right on top of the rather surprised cloaked figure.

A litany of curses in a tongue no human could hope comprehend boomed from the foliage as Genma leapt upon the food, scarfing down the rice balls in seconds and taking only marginally longer on the bamboo.

Then, with a few scraps of bamboo still falling from his jaws, Genma thrust a sign into the air.

"Meep meep, bitches."

Genma then dashed down the road, leaving only the obligatory cloud of dust and an empty plate behind him as Death snarled in fury and hatred.

* * *

"Well, that's just great. So he's still alive, just lost in Hell," Kouma groused, "if the jerk would just lay down and kick the bucket, this would have been so much easier."

The she-devil at the counter quirked a well-trimmed eyebrow. "Why would a mortal who isn't dead be in Hell?"

"Because your security SUCKS now, that's why," Kouma answered matter-of-factly, "anyway, thanks for your help. That's all I need."

"Before you go, would you fill out a customer satisfaction survey?" the devil woman asked, taking out a form and laying it down on the counter, "in order for us to serve you better in the future."

Kouma shook his head as he turned away. "Nah, I'm in a hurry."

"I am required to advise you that while it is your choice, failure to fill out a survey WILL result in you being attacked by wasps made of knives," the receptionist warned.

Kouma halted. "Wait. Wasps made of..."

_Bzzzzzzzzz..._ The hellhound trailed off as a wasp at least the size of his hand emerged from somewhere above, dropping in front of him to hover in place menacingly. It wasn't exactly made of knives, but rather had an unreasonably large, scalpel-like blade attached to each of is legs, mandibles, antennae, and a particularly nasty-looking spike emerging from its abdomen.

"Right. I forgot we had these, actually," Kouma grumbled as he turned back to the she-devil, "fine, can I borrow a pen?"

"No," the devil woman said simply, smirking as the wasp started circling Kouma's head.

The hellhound frowned, staring down at the survey sheet, and then up at the buzzing hellwasp, and finally back at the receptionist. "You take ironic customer service much more seriously than I remember."

She nodded. "The economy has been tough on everyone," she explained grimly as the wasp reared its stinger back and attacked.

* * *

"So what do we do if Kouma can't find them?" Yukari asked. She was currently leaning against Moka's chest as the girls sat next to a lava flow, the vampiress keeping close to Yukari as to benefit from the witch's air bubble.

Tsukune dearly wished to join them, as he already felt thirstier than he had ever been in his life and his hair probably contained half his body weight in soot by now, but he restrained himself. Mostly because it would involve him feeling up an eleven year-old and sandwiching her between him and Moka.

He wasn't entirely sure Yukari would disapprove, honestly, but he was intent on keeping the question moot.

"Then we move on to the next office. Or boss, or whatever," Tsukune said, his voice slightly hoarse, "if we can't find Jikan, then that's unfortunate, but we WILL find out what happened to Ranma."

"Hey! Kouma's coming back!" Moka said, brightening as she spotted the hellhound's human form through the dust with her superior vision.

Tsukune was wringing his hands as Kouma approached, though he was soon forced to put aside some of his concern for Ranma to make room for concern for Kouma; the hellhound had several gashes over his face and arms, as if he had been cut by several small knives. Oddly enough, it was his right hand that was most scarred and bloodstained.

"Kouma? What happened to you?" Tsukune asked as the native hellbeast walked past him.

"I just had to fill out a questionnaire with my own blood while using a 'pen' that was trying to stab me to death," Kouma said with an uncharacteristically calm shrug, "no biggie. More importantly, I found out where Jikan is."

Tsukune felt his heart sink into his stomach at the way Kouma said it, having obviously excluded Ranma on purpose. "And Ranma?"

A vein popped up on Kouma's head. "Turns out our buddy Saotome never bit that bullet after all. Somehow the bastard's still alive and kicking."

Tsukune felt relieved at first, but his dread grew as he considered that information. "Wait, so that explosion-"

"Either he dodged it, or he's a lot more resistant to fire than we thought. Even I couldn't have just shrugged off that eruption," Kouma groused, "really, this wouldn't happen if he'd just tell us his damn species already."

Moka fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, is he injured?"

"Is he still back at that cliff?" Yukari followed.

Kouma sighed wearily. "I don't know. So long as he's alive, Hell doesn't really have much to do with him."

"So how will we find him?" Tsukune asked, "should we double back where we came?"

"Are you sure you could handle that, Tsukune?" Moka asked in concern as she squeezed Yukari to her chest (much to the witch's delight), "you don't look like you're handling this atmosphere well."

"Besides that, if the guy survived being swallowed by fire, then there's no point in us worrying about his life NOW," Kouma groused, "he can find his own way. We should get Jikan and get out of here."

Tsukune grimaced, hating the idea of abandoning a possibly injured Ranma to the stingy mercies of the underworld, but eventually had to concede the point to Kouma.

"All right, since we know where our original target is, we'll get him and hopefully meet up with Ranma on the way or at the portal home," Tsukune decided, "if we don't find him, then we can leave Kouma at the portal to wait while the rest of us go back and think of a new strategy."

"Sure, whatever," Kouma said as he started to trudge down the path, "pretty sure it's unnecessary. I'd be more worried about setting Ranma loose in Hell than unleashing Hell on Ranma."

"You're being ridiculous," Tsukune insisted as he and the girls followed the hellhound, "even Ranma isn't invincible. What's he going to do in Hell that would be so terrible?"

* * *

"At the ready!" snarled a large devil in shining obsidian armor, holding a wicked-looking halberd over his shoulder.

A dozen more devils in identical wargear aimed their shadowy weapons at a pair of massive, bronze-lined double-doors.

_Bang!_ The doors shuddered as something hit them, but the guards did not flinch, their gazes smoldering with hate and determination.

Behind the ornately equipped hellbeasts was a particularly large devil, this one with skin the color of fresh charcoal and thick, long, night-black hair that covered his head like a lion's mane around the two twisted horns that sat atop his head. His lower body, rather than being humanoid like that of most of the other devils, looked like the hind legs of a goat, complete with large cloven hooves. He was dressed from head to hoof in glittering golden chainmail, with a variety of opulent accessories hanging from multiple piercings.

There was also a massive bronze throne in the room, which would have been totally eclipsed by the devil were he not crouching behind it in fear.

"When that fool breaks through, I'm going to give my obligatory Final Boss speech, then you all jump him!" demanded the bigger devil.

"Yes, my Lord Satan," growled the leader of the Infernal Guard, levering his own halberd at the doors as the shook once more from a heavy impact.

_Bang!_

"How did he get past the main gates? Did he sneak in or just kill anything in his way?" mumbled one guard devil as the hinges to the door strained painfully.

"Silence! Keep your weapons and your thoughts aimed at the enemy!" the lead devil snapped.

_CRACK!_

As the heavy doors finally collapsed inward, Satan stood up and to the side of his throne so that it was slightly less obvious he was using it for cover. "So you've made it this far, have you? Impressive, but your journey ends here, Ghost of Spar-" then he halted and quirked an eyebrow, "wait, you're not Kratos. What's going on?"

Ranma panted as he dropped the enormous bronze maul he had used to hammer open the doors. He had a large gash on one flank and a few cuts on his arm, but most of the dried fluid spattering his clothes was obviously devil ichor. He had also put away the handkerchief, as the air inside the fortress was clean enough for him to breathe easily, if not still ten degrees warmer than he liked.

"Where is the torment assignment office?" Ranma demanded, balling hands into fists as he glanced around at the weapons surrounding him.

All the devils in the room were silent, until Satan finally asked, "You're... looking for the assignment office?"

"That's right!" Ranma said, clenching his jaw as he held an aggressive combat stance, "also, if there's a water fountain or something around here, that would be awesome. I'm REALLY thirsty."

The captain of the Infernal Guard glanced back at Satan. "My lord?"

The ruler of Hell stepped up in front of his throne, stroking his beard. "So, who are you, exactly?"

"My name is Saotome Ranma!" the martial artist shouted.

"Oh-ho! And Saotome Genma would be your father, right?" Satan asked, grinning.

"That's right! I'm the son of Gen-" Ranma suddenly deflated, "wait, how do you know that name?" he asked fearfully.

Satan kept grinning as he suddenly jumped back to land seated in his throne. "Welcome, mortal, to my abode! I am Satan, lord of Hell and paragon of evil!"

Suddenly he clapped his hands sharply. "Captain! This man asked for refreshments, did he not? Stop pointing weapons at him and see to it!"

The other devils quickly shouldered their halberds and stepped back, and the captain offered a quick bow before rushing out the broken doors.

"Now then, Saotome, let's chat!" Satan said, clearly rather happy about this unexpected intrusion.

Ranma, on the other hand, was increasingly uncomfortable with this situation now that it didn't involve fighting and apparently DID involve his father. "So, uh, how about that office?"

"Oh, that? It's in the other direction, way across the main lava river," Satan explained, "you're pretty far off."

"Aw, are you serious?" Ranma groaned, "why didn't any of your guys just TELL me that rather than trying to stab me?"

"Well, it IS their job to make sure that mortal souls are kept in unspeakable agony for the rest of time," the ruler of Hell explained with a shrug, "but I can understand your frustration. I'll have a talk with them."

Ranma winced. "Ah... I doubt that."

* * *

"Wow, it's gotten busy all of a sudden, hasn't it?" asked one of the Satan twins as he passed out armor to a line of rather confused-looking devils. "Is there a skirmish going on in the first underworld, or what?"

The second twin shrugged as he leaned on a pike. "There's some mortal jerk running through Hell freeing trapped souls and killing the devils who try to stop him."

The other twin shook his head as he walked down the line. "A mortal killed you guys off? Double lame."

"Yeah, well we got the last laugh," grumbled one of the devils bitterly, "he asked me where the Torment Assignment Office was as I lay dying, impaled on my own weapon, and I never told him he was going in the completely wrong direction!"

"Yeah, we sure showed him," deadpanned the devil next to him who then raised his hand, "excuse me, Lord? Or, Lords, I guess?"

The two masters of Double Hell turned toward him, and the lowly soldier continued, "So if we're in Double Hell because we died in Hell, what happens if we die here?"

"Then you go to Scary Town," the Satan twin handing out armor said, stepping next to the devil and holding out a breastplate.

"Wow. That place must REALLY suck," muttered the next one down the line.

"Eh, it's not bad in the fall. Now armor up, boys! You're all working double shifts from now on!" the other Satan proclaimed, eliciting groans from the assembled devils.

* * *

The captain of Satan's bodyguards soon returned with an iron goblet, and handed to Ranma with his head bowed.

As nervous as Ranma was, he took the goblet without hesitation, and barely halted before he drank it, noticing that it was a rich red color.

"Wait, what is this? Wine?" Ranma asked.

"Blood wine. Only the finest for guests of our lord," hissed the captain, his forked tongue briefly poking out from between his lips.

"That's... just a name, right?" Ranma asked awkwardly.

"What do you think?" Satan deadpanned, planting his cheek against his fist as he leaned his elbow against his throne's armrest.

"I can't drink blood!" Ranma said, grimacing, "I'd be no different than the vampires!" He handed the goblet back to the captain of the Guard, who looked confused.

"Well, as beverages go we've only got the blood wine and Pepsi Blue," Satan explained, "so just how parched are you?"

Ranma wordlessly snatched back the goblet and took a deep gulp, trying to keep from tasting it.

"Anyway Saotome, let me cut to the chase: your father Genma made a deal with me, and that deal means that your soul belongs to me," Satan said happily as Ranma finished draining the goblet.

"Yeah, I figured," Ranma grumbled as he handed the empty cup back to the guard devil, "so what was the deal about?"

"Well, once upon a time, an up-and-coming martial artist was seriously regretting his choice of instructors, and as men often abused and humiliated are won't to do, he hatched a plan to get his revenge upon the one responsible for his suffering."

"Happousai?" Ranma asked.

"Yes, precisely," Satan said, his grin revealing rows of dagger-like teeth, "Genma had a plan, but he was afraid. There were too many things that could go wrong. He needed insurance, and I just happened to be in a position to provide when I heard a random prayer for help in securing vengeance," the massive devil steepled his fingers, "that's the sort of thing I can get behind, you see."

Ranma grunted. "Well, at least it was for a better cause than usual this time."

Satan chuckled. "Oh, yes. And such a two-for-one deal was impossible for me to pass up!"

Ranma looked surprised at this. "He offered up his own soul too?"

"No, but you can't really sell your son to the DEVIL without ending up here anyway," Satan explained blithely.

Ranma looked away uncomfortably. He'd seen what was done to the people here, and it was certainly bad enough that he had freed every one of them he'd met, despite the fact that it was almost guaranteed that they had earned their fate. And he was going to have to undergo that as part of a business deal?

"Look, I'm not gonna let you torture me 'cause of my Pop," Ranma declared, glaring up at the blazing red eyes of the lord of Hell.

"Oh, no, I wasn't going to!" laughed the devil, clearly amused. Then he pointed to a random member of his bodyguard. "Minion! Fetch Lucy at once!"

Ranma blanched. What was this about? Was he going to have to do some sort of pit fight? Or end up as food? "Hey, wait! Just what is 'Lucy'?" Ranma demanded.

Satan's smile stretched even wider. "Why, Lucy's my daughter! And your fiancee!"

Ranma was silent for several seconds as the guard devil stepped out of the throne room.

"Sooooo... on second thought, just what ARE the different kinds of torture around here?" Ranma asked as sweat started beading on his forehead that had nothing to do with the heat. "That sand pit thing seems like a bit too much, but do you have something that's like, half that painful? I mean, what are my options, here?"

"Pft!" Satan snorted as he leaned forward. "You don't have any options! I didn't take possession of your soul just to laugh at seeing acid dissolving your face over and over!" He briefly gestured to his antechamber. "As you might have guessed, decent men are hard to come by around here. The devils are nasty by design, and the damned souls have quite an assortment of 'issues', never mind that banging the boss's daughter for all time isn't much of a punishment."

Then Satan pointed at Ranma. "That's why I needed a soul that wasn't on track to end up here. Someone relatively upstanding and decent, but still underhanded and twisted enough to get by down here. So I started making deals to get souls in advance. Sometimes they turn out rotten, so the investment goes sour and they just end up in the pits, but you've turned out okay, so I'm declaring you my new son-in-law."

Before Ranma could protest, the door to the back of the throne room opened, admitting two devils.

The first was the guard that had left, but the second was a very female devil in a slinky black dress that Ranma could only assume was the aforementioned "Lucy". Her skin was like red satin, and her hair was a long, ash-white waterfall that stretched down to her knees behind her. She possessed a thin spade-tipped tail and a pair of small, curved horns that curled forward from the sides of her head, but other than that her body was quite human in form, if not human in a curvaceous, comically oversexed way that immediately got Ranma wondering how Kurumu was faring back at the academy.

"Ah, there she is," Satan said fondly, gesturing to the top-heavy devil who began inspecting Ranma silently, "Saotome, this is your new wife, Lucy. What do you think?"

Ranma stared at the she-devil, then glanced at Satan. Then he stared at Lucy some more, and then took an even longer look at the lord of Hell.

"I think... she doesn't look anything like you," Ranma pointed out, perplexed. Size and lower torso shape aside, she should have at least been the same color, right?

Satan's smile became somewhat strained. "She takes after my ex-wife. Primarily in that they're both whores."

Ranma winced at that, although Lucy seemed to ignore the comment completely as she circled the pigtailed boy.

"Not bad," Lucy finally said, her voice rich and husky as she planted her hands on her hips, "now show me the goods."

Ranma blanched as the red woman pointed at his groin, and Satan clicked his tongue.

"Lucy, that's rude! The man is here to get to know you, too!" the ruler of Hell chided, "at least show him your body as well!"

"As you wish, Daddy," Lucy said, pinching the shoulder strap of her dress.

"Wait, wait, WAIT!" Ranma suddenly shouted, surprising the two royal devils and causing them to stop.

"There's something weird about this whole arrangement," Ranma said, turning back to Satan, "when are you supposed to get my soul, anyway?"

Satan quirked an eyebrow. "As soon as you die, I take full possession. So I'm sorry, but-"

"No, **I'm** sorry, but I'm not dead," Ranma declared.

This was apparently a stunning revelation for everyone in the room, as Satan, Lucy, and even the nameless guards looked utterly perplexed.

"Actually, my lord," the guard captain said uncertainly, "I did notice that he was... well, breathing a little bit more than a typical disembodied soul. Or a lot more, rather. He also hasn't healed that flank wound yet, which is odd for a spirit."

"Then... what are you doing in Hell?" Satan asked, cocking his head to one side.

"I just broke in with a buddy to steal back the soul of this guy we didn't want killed," Ranma explained, his nerves calming considerably, "I'm totally heading back to the mortal realm after this."

Lucy's eyes widened, while Satan scratched at his beard.

"Huh. I, uh, I gotta be honest with you," said the ruler of Hell, "this entire conversation kind of hinged on you being dead and your soul legally bound to your father's contract."

"So now we're just wasting each other's time," Ranma guessed.

"Yeah, pretty much," Satan admitted, "so anyway, now that you know where-"

"Wait!" Lucy suddenly shouted, drawing her father's attention. "Hold on! Couldn't we get married anyway?"

As Satan raised an eyebrow at her, Ranma blanched.

"When you think about it, there's nothing in the contract that stipulates that the marriage and soul seizure are necessarily related, just that they both occur. Thus since we've happened to meet before Saotome's death, there's no specific reason why we can't marry anyway."

"She sleeps with a lot of lawyers," mumbled one of the guards to Ranma as way of explanation.

The martial artist ignored him. "I have a reason. Or really, three reasons, but they're all the same: I'm engaged already," Ranma said, crossing his arms over his chest, "so if that first guy I freed was right, then I'll be single again when I die, but for now I really can't marry you."

Lucy grit her teeth as Satan shrugged.

"Well, that's no biggie. A human lifetime is hardly..." he trailed off as his daughter suddenly walked up to Ranma and seized his arm.

"Can I speak to you? Privately?" Lucy whispered, her voice utterly serious and possessing none of the sensual allure from before.

"Lucy, where are you going?" Satan asked before Ranma could respond, leaning forward in his throne.

The she-devil flinched. "I'm just... Uh... taking him to the cellar for some illicit, premarital sex. Yes, that's right."

"But I-" Ranma's protest was cut off as the she-devil slapped a hand over his mouth.

Satan frowned. "Okay, but make it quick. And go easy on him; in this heat, he needs to retain his fluids, still being alive and all."

"Sure thing, Daddy," Lucy mumbled, not really listening as she shoved Ranma out through the shattered doorway into the hall.

* * *

Lucy frowned as she walked among the broken skeletons of dead devils and their scattered weapons, clearly lost in thought.

Ranma was also thinking intently as he followed her, but opted to speak his mind. "You know, if it weren't for the fact that he runs a horrible torture dimension, Satan would be a pretty cool guy," he admitted, "I mean, I've met plenty of people way less reasonable and more dangerous."

"Daddy has a... challenging job," Lucy said reluctantly, "and a bit of a PR problem as well."

"Which probably isn't going to get any better with all the people I set free back into the world of the living," Ranma admitted, "I hope that turns out okay."

Lucy turned around, looking very serious. "All right, enough about Daddy; let's talk about us. What's it going to take to get you to marry me?"

"Hopefully a martial arts duel even bigger than the fight against Saffron, preferably in SPACE," Ranma said with a grin, "but otherwise I'll probably kick the bucket in-"

"No, I mean NOW," Lucy said, planting her hands on her hips, "I'm open to deals. Anything you want. Material wealth, magic power, whatever. If you want to keep the other girls, we can do a harem end. I can make it happen."

Ranma gave the buxom hellspawn an incredulous look. "Wait, why are you in such a hurry, anyway? Why do you even want to marry me?" While she had certainly seemed interested from the beginning, her attitude didn't suggest she was hopelessly infatuated with him. And despite all the accusations of how loose she was, the daughter of Satan seemed to be deliberately trying to marry him rather than just seducing him as she had told her father she was going to do.

Lucy clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Fine, I'll level with you: I want to get out of Hell and into the mortal realm."

Ranma blinked. "You do? Why?"

"WHY? Have you taken a look around?" Lucy snapped, waving her hand in the general direction of the exit and kicking a dropped glaive, "you know, when humans end up here it's because they turned away from God and gave in to a host of dark lower impulses, surrendering to temptation! Do you know what me and the other devils did to end up here? We were BORN on the wrong side of a divine barrier!"

"The more I learn about cosmic justice, the less just it seems," Ranma deadpanned.

"Exactly! Do you know what it's like to grow up in this... this..." Lucy bit her lip angrily as she even failed to finish the sentence, "you can't even call it a hellhole because that isn't an analogy! This place is literally the low point of comparison for every other lousy place in the universe! Except Scary Town during the Spring. All the time while I grew up I was constantly taunted by the complaints of the humans about all the incredible things they had to leave behind and the decadent comforts of their mortal lives! And I might never get another chance to experience it at all!"

Lucy hesitated for a moment. "Well, that's what I get from some of the damned, anyway. You **are** from one of the REAL countries, right? Like the United States, or the Korea that isn't constantly starving to death?"

"Japan, actually."

"Even better!" Lucy said, brightening as she smiled for the first time since Ranma met her, "being a sexual deviant is practically required for citizenship! I'll barely even stand out!"

"Okay, hold on," Ranma said, rubbing his forehead, "I'll give you that this place is awful, but aren't you, like, a Hell **princess**? Your dad is Satan, the ruler of this entire plane or whatever. That doesn't seem so bad to me."

Lucy once again crossed her arms under her breasts, nodding solemnly. "It's true. I am the second most esteemed creature in the Inferno. I have a castle, with all the primitive comforts that medieval-level technology in a resource-strapped realm can manage. I have a legion of slaves and warrior devils to cater to my every whim. The legacy of the second most powerful creature in all the universe belongs to me. And I can have any man I want, from the lowliest hellspawn to ancient spirits of human men so adept at satisfying their lovers that it poisoned their souls and damned them eternally. My immortal life is better than that of any other in Hell."

She spoke softly but reverently as she listed her privileges, and then glanced at Ranma briefly before her expression fell and her eyes narrowed.

"But believe me when I say that I would trade ALL OF IT for a modern flush toilet and an iPhone."

"Huh," Ranma mumbled, scratching the back of his head, "okay. Fair enough. But still, what does that have to do with marrying me?"

"You might not have caught on, since you seem to prefer 'handiwork' to 'paperwork'," Lucy mumbled, gesturing to the devil remains that littered the floor, "but aside from all the torment, Hell is one giant web of bureaucracy. Which is actually just a different flavor of torment, now that I think about it."

She shook her head. "Anyway, for those of us who aren't just popping into other dimensions to steal souls from their penance, it's not easy to just go to the mortal realm. Or ANY other realm."

"Still waiting for the marriage thing to make sense," Ranma muttered, looking bored.

Satan's daughter sighed as she rolled her eyes. "In a nutshell, in order to gain passage to the mortal realm, I need to be a citizen of a mortal country in a way consistent with that country's immigration laws. The easiest way to do that is to marry a current citizen. As in, a living, breathing human. As in you."

"That's stupid," Ranma deadpanned.

"Don't complain to me about it! I've tried all the other ways!" Lucy shouted, her tail going ramrod straight as she clenched her hands into fists and glared at him. "No immigration department will process an application from the 'daughter of Satan'! Damn my hereditary Lawful Evil alignment!" She huffed angrily, and then seemed to calm down as she met Ranma's eyes again. "It was a stroke of insane luck that the man I happen to be promised to ALSO happened to barge his way into Hell without fulfilling the usual prerequisite of dying first. I CAN'T let this chance go to waste!"

Ranma broke eye contact uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head. "Look, it's not that I don't want to help, but marrying you is sort of..." he pursed his lips, uncharacteristically thinking of what to say before his mouth ran off without his brain, "well, I've seen that philanderers end up in the baking sand pits, and if my fiancees find out that I married someone else behind their backs, then I'll be ending up in one way too early."

"A major part of adultery is the betrayal! It wouldn't count in this case because it's a marriage of convenience!" Lucy protested.

"Yeah, I'm way past trusting that the universe will see reason when judging me. Not happening," Ranma said, shaking his head.

Lucy bit her thumb anxiously as she tried to think of a new strategy. "Okay, wait. How about this: we get married just long enough for me to get my green card, then we divorce immediately. The whole thing can be a secret and we won't have to see each other again until we're both back in Hell. Actually, we won't even need to see each other during the fake marriage! One signature on a marriage license, and you're done with your part! I'll take care of EVERYTHING! All I need is a signature!"

The she-devil was gleefully hopping up and down at this point, and Ranma couldn't help but feel guilty at his reluctance (he also felt other emotions at the sight of Lucy's breasts bouncing like volleyballs, but stamped them out quickly as usual).

"Are you SURE that your Hell laws recognize divorce? So there won't be any technical adultery?" Ranma asked.

"Yes!" Lucy said.

"And you'll keep this a secret from everyone I know?" Ranma asked.

"YES!" Lucy said even louder.

"And you'll take care of the divorce as soon as you're straight with the government?" Ranma asked.

"YES! FIRES BELOW, YES!" Lucy screamed in joy and anticipation.

_Knock! Knock!_ "Hey, would you two hurry up and finish? We have to start cleaning out those bodies. And whatever fluids you're leaving behind," asked a rather bitter-sounding voice from the opposite side of the door leading to the hallways.

Ranma and Lucy both glanced at the door in annoyance, and the former sighed heavily.

"All right, I'll do it."

Before he knew it Lucy had seized him into a crushing hug, black tears crawling down her cheeks as she squeezed her formidable chest against his.

"Thank you, Ranma! You've made me the happiest girl in the underworld! Which is a really lousy standard, I know, but still!"

"Okay, okay, great," Ranma mumbled nervously as he worked to pry his newest fiancee off of him, "but you said I could ask you for a favor, right? A major one?"

Lucy nodded vigorously. "Horrific and disgusting forms of sex are not off the table!"

"That's... neat," the martial artist said weakly, wondering just what he could expect in his future eternity of unholy matrimony, "but no. Can you get me something to write on and a pen? I need to take care of that marriage license, but I also have to write a letter..."

* * *

"I can't begin to express my thanks for the depth of your mercy, Lord Aono!"

Kouma groaned. "Well, can you FINISH expressing your thanks? I'm sick of having to hear about it."

Currently the hellhound was leading Tsukune, Moka, Yukari, and one other person through the unmanned Gates of Hell, idly kicking the useless metal detector as he passed by.

The person at the rear of the party was a rather large, hairy beast with long, huge claws who was wearing Tsukune's jacket around his waist like a loincloth, and was otherwise naked. He seemed intent only on searching out the exit, though he was also careful not to step ahead of Tsukune, who he was trailing reverently as the leader of the Protection Committee hobbled along while leaning on Moka, having nearly exhausted himself.

"Don't mock me, hellhound!" the hairy monster, Jikan, snapped, "you have no idea what torments-"

"YES, I DO," Kouma promptly snapped back, "I used to work here. It wasn't my first time to the pendulum blade works. Don't think that I don't understand; I just don't care."

"Oh. Right," Jikan mumbled, "well at the very least I wish you wouldn't disparage Lord Aono's efforts like that!"

"Yeah, yeah, hats off to the fearless leader," Kouma grumbled, "now let's get our tails out of here before said leader dies of heat stroke."

"Wait," Tsukune rasped, clutching Moka's shoulder as he looked around feverishly, "is Ranma-"

"We can wait for him on our own, Tsukune. You need to get out of here!" Moka protested as she pulled the weakened human along.

"H-How long will you wait?" Tsukune gasped out as he limped along behind the vampiress.

"We can't wait forever," Moka said grimly, catching sight of the swirling blue portal as they pushed their way through the fog of ash, "but you can't put yourself at risk for Ranma's sake! What he did was heroic-"

"Moderately heroic. At BEST," Kouma interrupted.

"... Thank you, Kouma," Moka said disingenuously, "anyway, Ranma knows the risks he takes better than we do. He wouldn't want you to suffer on his account, even if you could help him by staying behind. For now, it's better for you to get to saf-"

"Oh, there he is," Yukari said, suddenly waving behind the group, "Senpai! Over here! We're ready to go!"

A sweatdrop rolled down Moka's head as Tsukune whirled around in surprise.

"Ranma! You're back! You're alive! You're..." Tsukune trailed off as he and everyone else noted the big red ball of sex following the martial artist around the bend, wearing only 6-inch stiletto heels and barely enough black fabric for half a window curtain, "bringing back a devil prostitute?" he asked, the exhaustion impeding his usual politeness.

Kouma in particular seemed stunned to see the woman, and pointed a trembling figure at the she-devil while the others looked on in confusion. "That... That's... She... Lu-"

Ranma stopped in front of the group of his classmates plus the guy he assumed they were there to rescue, and suddenly held up his hands to silence his friends.

"All right, look. I know what with the explosion and me being gone this whole time you all have a lot of questions for me right now, and her being here isn't helping," the martial artist pointed behind him at the scantily-clad devil, who offered a silent smirk and a small wave to the assembled students.

Then he sighed. "But it's a long story, and it involves like three or four OTHER long stories, so can you all just believe me that you're all better off not knowing so we can go home?"

"But she's-" Kouma started to say, only for Ranma to interrupt him.

"Seriously man, it's best if you just leave it alone."

Tsukune hesitated for a moment, but eventually shrugged. "Yeah, okay. We can do that. Let's get the here out of Hell," he mumbled as he staggered into the shimmering blue portal.

"Wait, was that a joke, or has the dehydration started causing brain damage?" Yukari asked as she followed Tsukune through the portal. Moka followed a moment later, looking rather uncertain but definitely being more concerned with Tsukune's well-being than with any newcomers.

"Well, let me tell you, after I get back to school I'm going full-tilt Christian," Jikan explained as he approached the portal, "I've learned my lesson! I'm definitely not coming back here again!"

Lucy raised an eyebrow as she followed the clawed monstrosity. "Bugbear, right?"

"Yes. What about it?" Jikan asked, turning his head right before he stepped into the gateway.

"Yeah, it's not really gonna help. You're definitely coming back," deadpanned the she-devil.

Jikan made no move to go through the portal, his fanged face darkening. "Wh-What?"

"What can I say; afterlife isn't fair. Now move it woolly, I want to try a McFlurry!"

Kouma kept staring at Ranma as Lucy shoved the horrified bugbear through the portal.

"You... You KNOW that's Satan's daughter, right?" the hellhound asked, pointing through the magical gateway.

"It was heavily implied that she probably isn't," Ranma answered as he approached the portal, "you know, technically. I guess he did still raise her." He hopped through the gate before Kouma could ask any other questions, eager to leave the twisted and hateful environment of the Inferno.

Kouma was about to follow him, but hesitated as he stepped into the portal, glancing back at the dark clouds strewn with toxic ash and the jagged rocks seething with molten lava.

"Some day... I'll be back for good," he mumbled fondly, squatting down and fondly running a finger through a crack of magma that split the plate of brimstone he was standing on, "wait for me, okay baby? It'll be all-"

He was suddenly interrupted by Yukari's voice emanating from the portal. "We can HEAR you on the other side, you know."

His face reddening terribly, Kouma practically leapt into the gateway, and with a shimmering wink, the portal closed.

* * *

Tsukune drank greedily from a large water bottle as he stepped through the halls of Youkai Academy with Moka alongside him, glancing about at the interior.

He gasped as he finished off the bottle, feeling as if he had been brought back from the brink of death. "Well, I have to say, first impressions look good," Tsukune said, looking about the empty halls of the school, "no fires, no riots, and there's slightly less blood on the floor than usual. It looks like Kurumu can handle things without me after all."

Behind the pair were Kouma and Ranma, who appeared to be exchanging heated whispers such that Tsukune and Moka couldn't hear them. The others had already left, having their own affairs to tend to.

Tsukune led the way up to the Protection Committee's offices and then pushed the door open.

"Kurumu, we're... back..."

As soon as he opened the door, dozens of heads rose and turned to look at him. The entire lobby had been converted into an empty space with a great pile of pillows in one corner. The empty space was mostly being filled by students, most of them in their casual clothes and holding some sort of present, and all of them on their knees. Most had turned to stare at the newcomers, but those that didn't had their heads bowed in supplication.

Kurumu lounged upon the pillow pile, wearing a silk bath robe that was deliberately tied way too loosely to conceal much of her breasts and legs. Standing over her, Kana - dressed in a slave toga - had her wings out and was steadily using them to fan the succubus, while a similarly dressed Mizore waited on the other side, holding a bottle tightly against her body.

Kurumu lazily started to turn to see who had entered the room. "Who comes before the Head Magistrate Kurono? If it is more of those naked people ranting about devils and hellfire, then-" she did a double-take when she finally realized who was at the door, and she bolted upright with such haste that her robe almost came completely undone (causing all the male students looking at Tsukune to rapidly turn around again).

"Tsu-Tsukune! You're back!" Kurumu said, her face flushing as sweat started rolling down her forehead. "Uh... hi! Want some chilled cider?" she asked, gesturing to Mizore and her bottle.

Tsukune wordlessly approached the pillow throne, picking his way around the scattered supplicants.

"Now wait, I know it looks bad, but there's actually a perfectly good reason for this!" Kurumu said desperately.

Mizore quirked an eyebrow. "No, there isn't."

"Silence, slave!" Kurumu shouted instinctively before she shook her head, "I mean, shut UP, Mizore!"

"Kurumu..." Tsukune started, staring up the succubus and trying not to get distracted by the view he had directly up her robes.

The succubus winced.

"Good job," Tsukune finally said, "this is a better outcome than I had any right to expect. I'm proud of you." Then the human boy turned away and started heading toward the back, "I just have to take down a few notes for the student council, and then I need a shower. You're relieved. Please fix the lobby."

As Kurumu let out a gasp of relief, Kana deadpanned, "..."

"Do NOT tell him about that part," Kurumu hissed, being the only one close enough to overhear her.

"So this is what happens when me and Tsukune aren't around to keep her in check," Ranma mumbled as he looked around at the students silently praying on the floor.

"Well, you, Aono, and Akashiya. Kurono IS the second most popular girl in school," Kouma said with a shrug, "by the way, where's your... ah... tag-along?"

"Lucy wrote down my contact info and directions to the nearest Apple store and took off," Ranma said, leaning against the wall, "and good luck to her. Hopefully we won't have to see each other again for a LONG time."

"Uh huh. You didn't, uh, happen to sell your soul while we were down in Hell, did you?" Kouma asked, raising one of his bushy eyebrows.

"It was sold before I got the chance," Ranma grumbled, "so I sold something else. But it was worth it, I think."

* * *

"We're making a WHAT?" asked the captain of the Infernal Guard, his tone incredulous.

Satan shrugged as he held up a scroll. "We're making a new afterlife. For spiders. Evidently Saotome felt that it was pretty messed up that spiders don't have a 'good' afterlife, so he wanted me to build a paradise for the spiders that lead good, honest lives."

The lesser devil looked perplexed. "What constitutes a 'good, honest life' for a spider?"

Satan frowned as he scratched at his beard, "Well, he is a human, so it probably means choosing the right religion. We'll need to consult some of the greater spiders to figure out the specifics. Send someone to dig around among the Soviets and find a soul to build some of those big, oppressive-looking statues of whoever their god is. And we'll need to design a micro-ecosystem for hunting and stuff, since it's pretty much all spiders do."

Satan smirked. "This could be fun, actually! It will be nice to design something without the express intention of creating or assisting abject misery!"

The captain bowed. "It is as you will it, my lord."

"And while we're at it, why stop at spiders?" Satan asked, standing up from his throne thoughtfully, "they're hardly the only creature that ends up in Hell by default. Maybe it's time we treated the Inferno exclusively as a punishment rather than just a dirty slum for everything they don't want up in Heaven! We've been using the same twisted 'justice' for millennia, but maybe it's time for a change! We'll tighten our standards! Update our moral paradigm! Maybe start a parole system!"

He grinned as he nodded to himself, obviously pleased. "Yes. It's about time that things around here got an overhaul. I run a prison, not a garbage heap, and I'll no longer foist damnation upon those who haven't earned it!"

The lesser devil looked dubious. "What about vampires, my lord?"

"No, screw those guys. Everyone else will get a fair shake, though," Satan explained as he sat back down.

"Of course, my lord. We will begin at once."

Spitting on the Forces of the Universe that Regulate Life and Death: Session Complete  
Need to remember to ask Kouma about a few legal details about divorce. - Ranma Saotome  
Chapter End


	4. Tsukune Shuffle

Big Human on Campus

After School Sessions

by Black Dragon

This was a plot concept posed to my by Daniel Gudman, who is my bestest friend in the whole wide world. Mostly because I have no friends offline. So alone...

BTW, more blasphemy incoming.

Session 4

Tsukune Shuffle

hr

"I don't get why we have to do housecleaning for that old bastard," Ranma complained as he followed Tsukune down the neglected underpassages of Youkai Academy.

"The Headmaster said that the things we need to organize are too valuable and dangerous to leave to students on punishment detail or cleaning staff," Tsukune reasoned as he swept a flashlight from side to side ahead of them.

The corridors were largely unlit, what with most of lights having failed due the light bulb burning out or the wiring having corroded. Perhaps one in every five lights in the corridor was even remotely functional, and these usually flickered and sparked frequently, adding more to the horror-movie atmosphere than they took away.

Moka, Chopper, and Tobaki followed the pair of human boys, being the only members of the Committee who were either unwilling or unable to come up with a good excuse to avoid an afternoon of digging around in a magical closet.

"I don't know why Keito didn't want to join us. She might have family down here," Ranma said as his eyes followed the light. As it passed over the water-damaged walls and shattered flooring, the flashlight beam crossed no few number of giant spiders nesting in the perpetual darkness.

"Big sis has always been a tad lazy," Tobaki laughed, reaching out into the shadows to pet one of the tarantulas clinging to the walls.

"Anyway, I know this is a bother, but there's a reason the headmaster gave the job to us rather than his clone army, or whatever those guys dressed as priests are," Tsukune said, "so let's just get this over with so that we can get back to doing important things."

"I guess it just bugs me that we've become the Headmaster's errand boys," Ranma grumbled, stopping as he felt something poke at his ankle.

In the dim light of the hallway, Ranma could barely make out a creeping, eight legged shape jabbing at his leg.

"What, you wanna ride? Fine, crawl up here," Ranma said, standing still as the hand-sized spider leapt up onto his calf on command.

"I can't believe how many of those things you've trained," Moka mused, her own eyes having no difficulty seeing in the darkness, "where do you find the time?"

"Hm? I don't train most of them," Ranma said, completely ignoring the fanged monstrosity settling on his back, "I've never even seen this spider before."

"Huh? Then why does it listen to you?" Moka asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Ranma admitted with a shrug, "every spider on campus pretty much follows my commands now, even though I haven't even seen most of them before. It's really weird."

"All right, looks like this is it," Tsukune said as he pointed the flashlight at a half-broken wooden door. It had loose strips of caution tape hanging from it, and the hinges were little more than scraps of rust.

"So this where the Headmaster keeps his stash of incredibly powerful and dangerous magic items, eh?" Ranma asked, stepping up and knocking his knuckles against the door.

He managed that precisely once before the hinges crumbled and the door collapsed completely, very nearly disintegrating on the spot into a pile of rotting splinters.

"I really, really, REALLY hate that man," Ranma said under his breath as he entered ahead of the others, a small following of arachnids skittering after him.

Tsukune found a light switch next to the entrance, and taking a deep breath first, carefully switched it on.

Much to his surprise and satisfaction, some fairly strong ceiling lights blinked on with only a few bursts of sparks, and hardly any of those sparks bounced into the pile of leaking red barrels with "Warning Flammable!" signs plastered on them.

"He has a stash of explosive barrels," Ranma mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

"They go in the gratuitous explosives storage bank, which we passed on the way here," Tsukune said, jabbing a thumb behind him.

"Is that the one conspicuously situated beneath the student alchemical labs?" Tobaki asked as she put her glasses on in preparation to work.

Tsukune sighed a sigh of utter resignation. "Yes, that's the one."

As Tobaki picked up a barrel and started her task, Moka looked away from that corner and studied the rest of the room. The storage room was massive, with several adjoined storage vaults for safely storing magical items, although all of those vaults lay open. Piles of furniture, boxes, barrels, and chests littered the storage room, most of them covered with old sheets, dust, and cobwebs.

"All right, first things first," Tsukune said as he stretched his arms, "Ranma, can you get all the spiders in here out of the way? I'd rather not end up stepping on one or disturb a nest on accident."

"You heard the man! Let's go!" Ranma shouted firmly, clapping his hands, "get outta here! All of you!"

Tsukune honestly found it as mesmerizing as it was terrifying to see numerous - perhaps more than a hundred - spiders emerge from their hiding places simultaneously and scuttle onto the floor. One of the pieces of furniture in front of him, a dusty armoire, burst open and almost smacked him in the face as an arachnid larger than most dogs crept out and joined the fanged river converging toward the doorway. Most of the beasts were larger than his hand, which led Tsukune to wonder uncomfortably what it was they ate down here when they seemed to be the dominant species.

"Can I have one or two of 'em?" Chopper asked as he stared down at the orderly line of spider traffic, "I'm a little hungry."

"We'll eat lunch after this," Ranma said, shaking his head as he plucked a smaller spider right out of its web near the ceiling and tossed it into the tide of hairy legs, "the sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be done."

"All right. We have four categories other than explosives, so the rest of these things have to be sorted into the vaults here," Tsukune said, pointing to each of the vaults in turn, "magical weapons and clothes, magic mirrors, eggs and seeds, and plot McGuffins."

Ranma winced. "Magic mirrors, eh? Be careful to keep the sheets over those things. They are a PAIN if you look into them."

Tsukune nodded. "Good advice. Chopper, I want you to focus on the plot McGuffins. Since you're a minor character, there's a much smaller chance of you triggering an adventure."

"So, we DON'T want an adventure?" Ranma asked as he approached a barrel covered by a cloth.

"Not before lunch, we don't," Chopper said as he gathered up a trio of golden triangles.

Ranma peeked under the cloth over the barrel, seeing that it was being held up by several swords and spears that had been dropped into it in a cluster.

"Oh! Hey! Nice to meet you, buddy! I'm-"

Ranma quickly dropped the cloth and then moved to pick up the barrel. "Magic weapons."

"Yeah, I am! Listen, I've been stuck down here for quite a few years, and was wondering if you would like to-"

Ranma put the barrel down in the furthest corner of the vault and then turned around, completely ignoring the talking weapon.

"Smooth moves, Derflinger"

"Oh, shut up Longinus."

Moka frowned as she looked up at the numerous eggs that littered one corner of the storage room. Each of them were just bigger than a man's head and riven with veins, and they were a dull green color near the base that darkened to a black ebony near the top.

"Tsukune, some of these eggs look like they've hatched," Moka said nervously as she started picking up the intact ones to haul into the vault, "what if there are some kind of baby creatures in here?"

Tsukune stopped pushing a large dressing mirror into the appropriate storage vault, glancing at Moka. "Oh. I was wondering what all those spiders had to eat down here." He idly batted aside a dark, withered tail that hung from a cobweb's cocoon, and finished moving the mirror.

Chopper stared carefully at a thick golden ring he had found in an otherwise empty chest, then shrugged and flicked it into the McGuffins vault.

After that, the troll started rifling through the contents of a dusty old desk when he suddenly heard a petite voice speak to him.

"Hey, you! The big guy! Over here!"

Chopper turned his head, and the wrestler quirked an eyebrow when he saw that there was a hummingbird-sized fairy sitting atop a small disc covered by a cloth.

"Hi! I'm Lilith! The spirit of this mirror here!" the fairy said enthusiastically, pointing to the covered item.

Chopper rubbed his considerable chin, his eyes narrowing. 'So does it go in the McGuffin room, or the mirror one?'

"You must be my new master!" the fairy chirped, "I can grant you a wish!"

"I wish I had a snack," Chopper said immediately.

A sweatdrop almost as big as the fairy appeared behind her. "Uh, are you sure you want to wish for something as mundane as that?"

"That wasn't a wish, I was just thinking out loud," Chopper said as he reached out and took the fairy between two fingers.

"Oh, then what do yo-hey, WAIT! STO-"

_Chomp!_

Moka placed another batch of eggs down, and then returned to the area she was clearing, pulling apart a veritable curtain of cobwebs that were blocking her path.

She frowned as she saw a massive, spike-encrusted egg settled in the corner, its shell a bright purple color with dark spots.

"Uh, Tsukune, this one looks kind of dangerous..."

Tsukune finished taking the carefully wrapped hand mirror from Chopper, and then turned toward Moka.

"What, just because it's bigger?"

Moka shook her head slowly. "Not just that. I can feel... a deep, deep malevolence inside it. Like... a hunger that can never be satisfied."

Tsukune walked up to the vampiress as she shuddered. "Is it that bad?"

Moka nodded slowly. "It sounds like its trying to... escape. A force of destruction that cannot-"

"YOINK!" Richard said happily as he dashed past the teenagers and grabbed the side of the egg, pulling it toward him so that it started a slow, uneven roll.

Moka and Tsukune watched silently as the warlock quickly stepped behind the egg and then started pushing to pick up speed toward the exit.

"You were waiting for something like this, weren't you?" Tsukune asked blandly.

"Well, I would have taken the One Ring, but I still owe Sauron money," Richard admitted as he smashed the egg through the doorway, easily ripping through the walls surrounding the small passageway without any apparent damage to the egg, "toodles!"

Tsukune shook his head. "Let's just hurry up and get these things locked up before he tells the other teachers about this."

"Hey guys! Check this out! This star has a face!" Ranma said, laughing as he poked at a giant glittering star shape the size of a truck tire.

"Come on, no time to play!" Tsukune said, clapping his hands, "let's finish sorting this stuff before something dramatic happens!"

"Aw, you're no fun."

Hr

Nearly an hour of extremely uneventful work later, Tsukune wiped the sweat from his forehead as he finished hauling the last of the mirrors into magic mirror storage, the sheet still wrapped safely around its presumably reflective and probably dangerous surface.

"There! All done here! And not a single incident!" the imminently doomed human said happily right before the screeching began.

Hr

About one minute before that, Ranma frowned as he looked at some kind of high-tech cylinder that he had found in a chest full of power swords and a giant metal claw with a gun mounted over the wrist.

"It was put with a bunch of weapons, but is this a weapon too?" he asked aloud. "Looks like some kind of flashlight..."

Curious, he held the device out in front of him and started jiggling the switch on the side just as Chopper passed by in front of him.

Hr

About thirty seconds before that, Moka beckoned Chopper over to an object stuffed in a large crate. It was a large glass cylinder with metal devices on either end that flashed and beeped while displaying information on a small LED display, all of it meaningless to the two monsters. Inside the tube was a small, bizarre creature about the size of Moka's head. It kind of resembled a jellyfish, but had hooked teeth rather than tentacles, and inside its translucent head were a few big red nerve spheres.

"What should we do? It's kind of like an egg, I guess... but not really," Moka admitted.

Chopper shook his head. "Looks like a plot device to me. I'll take it to my pile."

The troll picked up the containment unit, heedless as the Metroid larvae inside trembled and screeched within.

Then he hefted it onto his shoulder and walked toward the vault right as Ranma switched on a lightsaber.

_FSHYEWWWW!_ "WHOAH!" Ranma shouted in surprise as a shaft of red light burst from the cylinder in his hand, stabbing into the side at an angle and carving out much of the device as Chopper shouted in surprise and tried to pull the containment unit away.

Within seconds, the screeching alien within the canister burst into the air, spilling stasis gel all over the dust-covered floor as it hovered shakily near the ceiling.

"Damn! It's free!" Chopper growled.

"SCREEEEEEE!" screeched the metroid, quivering in the air.

"We have a loose plot device!" Tobaki said, dropping an armful of fireworks as her hand seemed to liquefy into yellow sludge, "all main characters, get down!"

"Aw, hell," Ranma grumbled as he dove next to an armoire and covered his head with his hands.

Then he noticed Moka huddled under the desk next to him.

"Wait, why are YOU hiding?" the pigtailed boy asked, surprised.

_'This isn't canon storyline, right? We can kill him here, right?' _Evil Moka asked as a vein popped up on Moka's head.

"Gotcha!" Tobaki shouted as she lashed her arm out, her fingers forming a lance that speared toward the young alien.

The Metroid jerked to one side, avoiding the tendril, but in its rush to dodge it smacked into a ceiling light, prompting another burst of sparks on top of the needlessly bespectacled treasurer.

"That's right, RUN!" Tobaki taunted as her arm snapped back, and then she turned around as the metroid floated toward the vaults. "You won't get... What's that hissing noise?"

The yochlol looked down, her expression darkening as she saw the fuses on the scattered fireworks burning away toward their fiery and colorful conclusion.

She briefly adjusted her glasses. "How spontaneous and unexpected."

_Boom! Pop! Spee-yoo!_

"Guys? What's going on in here?" Tsukune demanded as he poked his head out of the storage vault.

He was only somewhat surprised to see a haphazard battery of roman candles spitting multicolored fire across the room, setting several large cobwebs aflame while Ranma, Moka, and Chopper all took cover. Tobaki was surrounded by spinning sparklers as she tried to stamp out the exploding fireworks, but he could see that the pyrotechnics were clearly spreading faster than she could stop them.

"What are they doing?" Tsukune mumbled, stepping out into the room in preparation to get the others to help out and put out the fires.

"Screeeeee!"

He halted as he heard some kind of high-pitched shriek from above him, and then he glanced up to see a floating alien menace swooping in his direction.

"Whoa! Hey!" Tsukune stumbled backward as the metroid stopped just a few feet away, quivering as it hovered at head level.

Then it suddenly tilted its hooked mandibles in his direction and burst forward, screeching all the while.

"Stop that! Go away!" Tsukune demanded, diving onto the floor to avoid the lunging alien.

The metroid missed him completely, snagging a sheet with its mandible and pulling it along.

Tsukune quickly moved into a crouch, and then looked up to check where the floating predator was setting up another lunge.

All he could see, however, was himself.

At least, it looked just like him, although the Tsukune in the mirror was wrapped in bandages and seemed to be mumbling to himself.

As it dawned on him that he was staring into one the previously covered magic mirrors, his eyes were drawn to a sheet of paper taped to the top with something written on it.

"Dimensional Prism," he read aloud as the polished glass surface started to glow, "Warning: may cause epileptic seizures in children and quantum seizures in adults. Do not use if you are pregnant or may become pregnant, because you might not be pregnant in the alternate universe you're about to be sucked into, and that would be SUPER awkward."

The surface of the mirror flared with light, and Tsukune flinched before he felt his surroundings fall away from him as his senses were overwhelmed. "Really, I should have expected this."

Hr

Ten seconds earlier, in canon...

Tsukune splashed cold water over his face as he leaned over the restroom sink, shivering slightly as the water ran down his neck and soaked the bandage wrappings underneath his shirt.

It really did figure. After so many struggles and so many surprising, unlikely victories, it turned out that the "gift" of vampire blood had a price after all. Just after he had gotten used to the idea of losing his humanity, after coming to terms with the reality that in order to survive, he would have to change, it turned out that the "change" in question would strip him of his sanity and turn him into a flesh-eating ghoul.

"And now Moka's run off, thinking it's her fault I'm like this," Tsukune mumbled to himself, inadvertently pinpointing where in the canon timeline he was, "first the monstrels attack us, and now this. I have to find her quickly, before something ELSE happens."

Then he looked up and saw the sink mirror glowing as his reflection adopted an annoyed expression that didn't match the one on his face.

"Oh. I guess I'm too late," he mumbled weakly, right before an arc of white lightning burst out of the mirror and blasted the young human.

After a brief flare of light, the wet, standing Tsukune was instantly replaced with a dry, crouching Tsukune.

Tsukune froze only for a moment, and then shot to his feet, immediately turning toward the nearest mirror and staring into it.

"... C'mon, c'mon," he grumbled, reaching out and tapping on the bathroom mirror with his knuckle. Not that he had any reason to expect this to matter in any way, but he had no better idea what to do when one had just been shunted out of a magic mirror.

When nothing happened, Tsukune growled and pounded a fist against the mirror surface.

_Crack!_ The old, weathered screws keeping the mirror in place on the wall promptly buckled, and it fell down behind the sink, bouncing off the piping and smashing into pieces on the floor.

"... Huh. Well, it was a pretty hopeless attempt anyway," he admitted to himself before taking the Protection Committee armband off his arm, "I guess it's time to go exploring, then."

Hr

Meanwhile, in a much better storyline...

"Gugh!" Tsukune grunted as he appeared in the middle of the magic mirror storage area, almost falling from the shock of instantaneous transport.

"What? Where? How?" the hapless human looked around him in a panic, being extremely confused as he saw nothing but pieces of furniture covered in dirty sheets and a single full-size dress mirror.

He was about to read the note attached to the top of the mirror, when he heard a voice behind him, startling him.

"Yo, Tsukune, you all right?" Ranma asked, poking his head into the room. "I saw a flash of light in here." He dropped an empty fire extinguisher on the floor next to the entrance, wisps of white powder still leaking from its nozzle. By now he had taken to carrying them with him, on account of how often he was called upon to help put out fires.

Tsukune whirled around, seeing a boy he'd never met before with a pigtail. "Huh? Me? Yeah, I'm okay, I think."

Tsukune shook his head, wonder what had just happened. "Sorry, but where am I?"

"You're in the Headmaster's stupid storage room for all his magic crap," Ranma said, surprising Tsukune somewhat with his unusually rough and casual speech, "you didn't get zapped by any of it, did you?"

"I think I did, actually," Tsukune said uneasily, stepping out past the unfamiliar boy. Tsukune was a class representative and rather famous thanks to various rumors throughout the school, so it didn't bother him so much that this guy apparently knew him when they had never met. He did wish the fellow would recognize they at least weren't on a first-name basis, but unsurprisingly many monsters weren't as polite as Japanese humans.

"What? What happened?" Ranma asked, following Tsukune out, "does it have something to do with all the bandages?"

Tsukune shook his head. "Look, I don't have time. I have to find Moka."

"Oh, okay," Ranma said before waving his hand over his head. "Hey, Moka!"

To Tsukune's surprise, the vampiress was standing just on the other side of the room, talking with some other girl he didn't know and...

Tsukune did a double-take as he recognized the other figure, and his face paled. What on Earth was Chopper Rikishi doing talking to her?

Moka heard her name being called, and glanced behind her. "Just a minute!"

Then she planted her fists on her hips and stared up at Chopper, frowning. "I think you should go after it. What if it hurts someone?"

"That was clearly a ghost, not a space jellyfish," Tobaki said, adjusting her glasses, "I don't like fighting insubstantial creatures, so I'm not going after it."

Moka let out a tired sigh. "No, I think it was the creature with a sheet over it. If it wasn't, then where did it go?"

"MAYBE," Chopper said, crossing his arms over his chest, "the space jellyfish died, and that was its ghost that just left."

"Troll, either there's a draft in here, or you just BLEW MY MIND," Tobaki said, giving the larger monster a high-five.

"Moka?" Tsukune asked, walking up to the trio uncertainly.

"Yes? What is it?" Moka asked, blinking.

"I... uh..." Tsukune was acutely aware of everyone staring at him as he crossed the room, and he tried to avoid making eye contact with Chopper as he spoke to the vampiress, "listen, I need to talk to you."

Moka blinked. "All right, what is it?"

It perturbed Tsukune greatly that Moka made no move to leave the room, despite the fact that two strangers and a student who had once threatened to snap her head off were clearly listening in right next to them.

"Can I speak to you **alone**?" Tsukune said, urgently stressing the last word.

Ranma, Chopper, and Tobaki all quirked eyebrows.

"Well, since we're done, we should report to the Head Jackass before you two start making kissy faces at each other," Ranma said, causing Moka and Tsukune to blush badly and stammer uselessly in response. He then headed into the hallway leading out of the storage room, and to Tsukune's surprise Moka quickly followed after him, apparently trying to hide her expression.

Tobaki sighed as she stepped up next to the confused human. "I wonder if I'll ever have a sweet teenage romance like that?" the demon asked sadly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Probably not if you insist on using the tentacles every time you're with a guy," Chopper noted as he lumbered forward.

"Hey, don't knock 'til you try it!" Tobaki countered, following the troll, "there are a lot of unique positions you can use with that kind of suspension and reach! Some of them even make your partner feel good, too!"

Tsukune stood rooted to the spot in front of the shattered entryway, completely confused. Why was that psycho Chopper chatting people up like they were all buddies? Who were these other two weirdos, and why did they talk about his relationship with Moka so casually? And most importantly, WHY was Moka letting them lead her away like they were friends of hers? She had always been shy and rather awkward around people other than him, especially boys, and he was almost certain that she didn't have any friends he didn't know about, if only because they were almost always together during school hours. When had that changed?

"All right guys! All clear! You can go back in now," called Ranma, only confusing Tsukune further.

Things weren't helped one bit when a veritable river of spiders emerged from the gloom beyond the storage room, pouring toward the entrance like a flood of hairy legs and glittering black eyes.

Tsukune felt his heart stop as he froze in place, completely shocked by the horrifying sight. He was equally shocked, though also quite relieved, as the arachnid swarm inexplicably parted before him, the scuttling beasts quite obviously avoiding the young man as they crawled back to their homes.

It all happened so fast that Tsukune remained stunned for several more seconds, wondering what had just happened.

"Oi, what's the problem, man?" Ranma asked, walking back a ways to find out why Tsukune was lagging behind, "are you still dazed or something?"

"N-No, I..." Tsukune shook his head to clear it, recovering quickly from the scare; he was already used to facing down malevolent horrors, though never something quite like a living carpet of poisonous fangs and creeping legs. "Never mind. Like I said, I need to speak alone with Moka right away."

Ranma frowned, sensing a kind of desperation from his roommate that suggested he wasn't just making time to flirt with the vampiress. "All right, that's fine. Tobaki can report back to the Head Moron. We'll just head back to the office."

Tsukune nodded hesitantly. "Okay... Uh... What office, exactly?"

"Your office, of course," Ranma said, walking on ahead as Tsukune hesitantly followed after him, completely bewildered.

"I... have an office?"

Hr

"I have an office," Tsukune said in wonder and confusion as he stared at the immaculately furnished room that stretched out before him.

Bookshelves lined both walls and the center of the office was dominated by an enormous hardwood desk littered with papers and basic office supplies, as well as a state-of-the-art computer tower. Several leather lounge chairs faced the desk, and there were even antique Japanese armor sets decorating the rear of the room, right under a painting of a pigtailed silhouette launching an uppercut just below a tornado (titled "Peace Through Cyclones"). The only thing marring the pristine opulence of the room was a large web in one corner that supported a bright crimson, baseball-sized spider, although Tsukune had to admit that even the delicately patterned spider nest somehow seemed decadent as it hung over a gilded water cooler.

"Tsukune, Captain?" the baffled young man asked aloud as he stared at the name plate sitting at the edge of the desk, next to a stack of business cards.

Hesitantly picking one up, Tsukune saw that it was indeed his name at the top, once again bearing the curious rank of "Captain". The card, however, also made clear that he was the captain of the Youkai Academy Protection Committee, along with the statement "Harmony and order, for a better tomorrow" and a reminder for the recipient to friend the Committee on Facebook.

"I am SO confused right now," Tsukune grumbled, rubbing his head. He remembered vividly that something had happened to him as he was washing up, but after that, the next thing he knew he was underground along with people he didn't know and one person he wished he didn't know. Moka had seemed to have gotten over her distress at turning him into a ghoul (or at least she was hiding it now), Chopper wasn't trying to beat him up for kicks, and somehow he had even become head of the Enforcers.

'That guy with the pigtail asked if I had been hit by some kind of magic item,' Tsukune recalled, 'maybe I've gotten my memory altered?' The thought was disturbing, but hardly far-fetched in Youkai Academy. He had already suffered brainwashing once under the pretext of math tutoring, and it had scrubbed out several days' worth of events from his memory. Perhaps the same thing had happened again?

Tsukune heard the door behind him open, and he turned around as Moka entered, closing the door behind her.

"Sorry about that, I had to help Mizore with her work," Moka apologized, walking up to him, "what did you want to talk about that you didn't want the others to hear?"

Tsukune hesitated, wondering if he should go ahead and talk to Moka about the effects of her blood injections or reveal that he had no idea how or why he was the captain of the Enforcers.

"So... Moka. Do you remember when those monstrels surrounded us... uh... the other day?" he asked lamely, rubbing the back of his head.

"Monstrels?" Moka asked, blinking. "No, I don't. Have the monstrels been bothering you?"

"Sorry, I'm a little confused," Tsukune said, tugging on his bandage wrappings nervously, "something odd happened in that room down there."

Moka's looked worried. "Something happened? You didn't look in a magic mirror, did you? Ranma warned you that those were dangerous!"

"I... don't know, but it's possible," Tsukune admitted, "but I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I know you were upset after I went berserk that time-"

"Went berserk? You?" Moka asked, now just as confused as the young human. "When did that happen?"

Tsukune frowned. No matter how much time he might be missing, Moka should have remembered that. Heck, she almost certainly remembered it better than he did.

On the other hand, if she had forgotten, that neatly eliminated any need to cheer her up. It was slightly irksome that she wasn't at all worried about his turning into a flesh-eating psychotic, but it was certainly the lesser of two evils.

Moka saw that Tsukune had gone silent, and then coughed lightly to get his attention.

"This might not be the best time, but... I locked the door when I came in," the pink-haired teenager said with a coy smile as she clasped her hands behind her back, "if you don't mind, can we do 'that'?"

Tsukune didn't move an inch, still frowning as he scratched his chin.

In his head, however, all thoughts of monstrels and magic doodads and Protection Committees were instantly binned as he focused entirely upon Moka's rather surprising request.

Apparent Fact #1: he was now in a position of power and privilege, and even had his own awesome private office.

Hypothesis #1: he was missing memories from an unspecified period of time, in which he was presumably with Moka a lot and they had gotten closer.

Apparent Fact #2: Moka had just locked herself in his office, and wanted to do something with him that she was too shy to state openly.

Hypothesis #2: _boom-chika bow-wow~!_

"Well, the timing isn't perfect, you're right," Tsukune admitted, managing to keep a professionally nonchalant tone as he nodded at the vampiress, "but okay, yeah. Let's do 'that'."

Moka brightened, embracing Tsukune eagerly. "Yes! Thank you!"

Hr

"GYARGH!"

Ranma and Yukari jolted as they heard a scream of pain and terror come from Tsukune's office, and the former shot to her feet.

"That was Tsukune, wasn't it? Is he under attack?" Yukari asked, reaching for her wand uncertainly.

"Well, given that Moka just went in, yeah, he probably is," Ranma said with a shrug, "it is lunch time."

"Oh," Yukari put her wand away, her concern vanishing, "he's much louder than usual."

"Yeah, she must have surprised him," Ranma said, once again returning his attention to the sheet-wrapped parcel on the table in front of him.

"Anyway, like I was saying, since old man Headmaster has so much magic crap he just has them shunted into an underground closet, I figured he wouldn't miss one or six. So I brought souvenirs for everyone."

Yukari gasped, slapping her hands to cheeks as Ranma unwrapped the small bundle. It was a curved short sword that had a simple design, but held a subtle malevolence that made the skin crawl just from looking at it.

"You got me the Anathame! Oh, Senpai, you're the best!" Yukari said cheerfully, picking up the terrible weapon and holding it up. There was a small label on one side of the handle, and she squinted slightly to read it. "And it was blessed by Nurg'leth, god of plagues! This is just what I needed to really give my curses that extra kick! Thank you!"

"No sweat. I figure it's probably safer in the hands of random teenagers than it is under the Headmaster's protection, anyway," Ranma said with a smirk.

"As evidenced by the fact that you yourself made off with it so easily?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

The door to Tsukune's office opened, and Ranma and Yukari fell silent as Moka exited, humming to herself pleasantly as she dabbed at her lips with a handkerchief.

Hr

"Well, it's nice to see that some things never change," Tsukune said meekly as he scratched at his wounded neck. It appeared that his relationship with Moka was the same as ever: that strange, awkward area above friends but below lovers where it was considered okay to feast on your partner's blood but kissing was still out-of-bounds.

Tsukune slumped into the chair behind his desk, frowning. He was glad to see that his relationship with Moka was at least stable, if not healthy, but the way she didn't seem to know anything about the monstrels or his dangerous transformation didn't mesh with his theory of spontaneous memory loss.

Glancing at his desk, he saw that there was a daily calendar partially hidden under a copy of the school newspaper.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the paper and checked what day it was.

"What the heck! It's the same date that I remember it being!" Tsukune growled to himself.

Then he happened to take a look at the paper. It couldn't be helped, really, since for some reason it had a group photo of Youkai Academy's swimming club plastered on the front; it was bound to draw anyone's attention.

"Youkai Times: Swimsuit Issue?" the hapless human mumbled in confusion, "who would print something like this?"

Looking further down, he received his answer.

"By editor, publisher, chief reporter and head writer Gin Morioka. Photography by Nagare," Tsukune read aloud, letting the paper slip back onto his desk.

'All right, THINK, Tsukune!' The human boy leaned back in his desk, steepling his fingers. 'It's the same day. The same place. Moka is here. But everything else is different! I'm head of the Enforcers, not involved in the newspaper club, I haven't started turning into a ghoul, and I even have friends who aren't girls! Missing memories can't explain this; it's like I'm in... a similar, but different version of Youkai Academy!'

At that thought, things started to click into place. Moka had said he was in a room with magic mirrors. The last thing he remembered before ending up there was a bathroom mirror starting to glow, and a slightly different version of himself staring at him, rather than his reflection.

'Maybe it switched us? Yeah, that would make sense. I guess. It is magic. So there's some version of me that runs the Enforcers wandering around in my Youkai Academy?'

Tsukune found the thought fairly distressing. He hadn't left at the best of times, and his counterpart was probably just as confused as he was. With the monstrels out for blood, Tsukune could only hope that his analog would be able to grasp the situation and survive. He was also concerned that the Moka in his home academy was still rather distressed, but there was hardly much he could do about that. The monstrels were the big concern.

'Then again, this Tsukune was apparently strong enough to become head of the Protection Committee. He might even be stronger than me,' Tsukune mused, 'so I'm sure he'll be able to defend himself and Moka, if necessary.'

Hr

Meanwhile, in an arena made of crumbling masonry and forced drama...

"-so it's not like I don't appreciate what you're trying to do. If the monstrels are maligned as much as I've heard, then of COURSE you're going to band together to defend each other! It's a reasonable, even noble impulse! But the current state of affairs really isn't helping anything!"

Tsukune sucked in a breath, keeping his voice even as he stared up at a muscular young man with one arm swollen into a giant, twisted claw. Several other students surrounded him, all of them giving him doubtful looks as Moka laid behind them, tied up.

"Saizo wasn't beaten for being a monstrel, he was beaten for being a sleazy jerk. If you're going to kill literally every student that even defends himself from a monstrel acting out, you're not going to be respected, only feared."

The monstrel with the massive arm, Mido, quirked an eyebrow. "Fear sounds close enough to respect to me."

"Does it?" Tsukune asked sharply, leaning forward. "Fear, hate, disgust, they're all the same! Is that really what you want to achieve? To make sure that no one will even associate with the monstrels for fear of aggravating you? Is that really what you aspire to? You want people averting their eyes and whispering angrily behind your back wherever you go?" Mido frowned and pursed his lips, staring at the ceiling.

Some of the other monstrels looked as if they were about to speak, but Tsukune pressed on, stepping away from Mido and slowly circling as he addressed all the monstrels in the room. "Of course not! You want the other students to see you as equals, not rabid animals! You want to make friends with your peers who might not have been born as monstrels! And if you guys are even REMOTELY representative of the gender ratio among monstrels, then finding girlfriends is practically a doomed prospect as things stand now!"

"He has a point," one of the taller boys said, looking away awkwardly, "I wasn't able to join any of the clubs I wanted to get into, just because the members saw me hanging out with you guys. I mean, maybe they'd keep me out anyway just for being a monstrel, but it's not like they're inviting me now, you know?"

"I'm sick of having to do group projects by myself! Even that time in chemistry class, when the teacher forced a group to accept me, they just told me to leave them alone and let them do the whole thing! I had ideas!" another boy grumbled, staring at the ground.

Another boy crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the other monsters. "You know, I never mentioned this before now, but you guys are all pretty much jerks. I never asked to be part of your little terrorist gang, but what the hell else am I supposed to do as a monstrel? Everybody else just avoids me, and all of our stupid gang rules mean that I can get killed for acting independently! It sucks!"

"Just once I'd like to go on a date without packing rope and chloroform," moaned yet another monstrel.

"All right, quiet down, chumps," Mido snarled, causing the other students to flinch back. Then he turned a suspicious gaze on Tsukune. "Maybe you DO have a point, but things aren't so easy, you know? Do you think we're sticking together just because we want to? Things can be pretty dangerous around here if you don't have a buddy to watch your back."

"You were dealt a bad hand, so you stick together to defend yourselves from others," Tsukune said with a nod, "I get that. I'd even say I admire it. I don't want you to give that up."

Tsukune approached Mido and then clapped a hand on the monstrel's shoulder, surprising him. "People tell me all sorts of awful things about monstrels, you know? I see what you're up against. And there's a better way to fight it. Your unity, your tenacity... we can put it toward a better purpose, and really show those arrogant pure breeds who the better monsters are. And we'll do it TOGETHER."

Mido looked completely stunned, unable to respond immediately.

"I... I, uh..." the monstrel seemed to swallow uncomfortably, and then clasped his non-mutated arm over his eyes, turning away. "Yeah, just... gimme a minute to think it over, all right?"

One of the other boys stepped closer, trying to get a good look at his leader's face. "Dude, Mido, are you crying?"

"I'M NOT CRYING!" Mido roared, his eyes glowing an angry red as he rounded on the offending monstrel, "I'm just... you know... taking in the sentiment," he said uncertainly.

Off to the side, Moka watched helplessly as her captors started talking to each other, discussing their longstanding difficulties and future goals for the monstrel gangs with the occasional pair going for a tearful hug.

_'Okay, what in the screaming Hell just happened?'_ Inner Moka demanded. _'I mean, I'm happy that we didn't have to go through that ghoul thing again, but I thought we had a good thing going where we smash the monstrels' faces in. I'm not sure I like this new direction.'_

"Here, let me get you loose," said a rather portly boy as he undid the ropes behind Moka.

The vampiress was surprised, but remained silent as she was freed.

"Here you go. I'm really sorry about us jumping you like that and using you as bait to murder your boyfriend. It really was uncalled for," the boy apologized, bowing meekly.

"Y-Yeah, okay. Sure," Moka said nervously as she stood up and rapidly backed away toward Tsukune, "Tsukune, can we leave now? I-"

"You go ahead, Moka, we still have to work out a program of civic engagement," Tsukune said, waving to the terribly confused vampiress before turning back to Mido, "so I was thinking you could leverage the numbers of the monstrel gang to create your own club, with activities revolving around campus restoration and beautification. That way all your helpful activities are as visible as possible for your peers."

Mido nodded. "We could establish a codified club charter too. Maybe create a more transparent process for judging whether we really should kill someone who messes with us, as well."

"Now you're thinking!" Tsukune said happily, raising his fist and giving a knuckle-pound to Mido's massive, taloned fist, "next, let's discuss the concept of proportional retaliation..."

Hr

Meanwhile, back in Crossoverville...

Tsukune hesitantly approached the door to his office, working out a plan in his mind to deal with his new theory as to where he was.

'I should probably keep quiet for as long as I can,' Tsukune thought grimly, 'the Enforcers aren't reasonable people, and I have no idea how they might react if I tell them that I'm not the Tsukune they know. If I'm lucky, they'll capture and hold me until they know how to send me back. If I'm not, then they might try to use the confusion to get rid of me.'

He took a deep breath, tugging on the bandages around his neck. 'First, I need to get back to that place with the mirrors. Since I have the authority of the Protection Committee, it shouldn't be too hard, as long as I'm not put in a situation where I have to recognize someone I should know.'

Before he could reach for the knob, the door suddenly swung open, nearly smacking him in the face as someone burst into his office.

"Hey Tsukune!" said the arrival, an unfamiliar boy with hard-chiseled features and shoulder-length blue hair. "Guess who?"

Tsukune's expression darkened. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

Honestly, the boy did seem familiar somehow, but Tsukune was pretty sure he'd never seen the fellow before. He was tall, thin, covered with hard-slab, lithe muscles, and extraordinarily masculine features only slightly ruined by the coy smirk on his face.

"Ha! It's me, Kurumu!" he said with a deep chuckle, planting his fists on his hips.

'Kurumu's a boy in this universe? Weird, but I guess I can see the resemblance,' Tsukune admitted to himself. "Oh, right! Listen, I've got to-"

"You don't seem very surprised," Kurumu said, quirking an eyebrow as he unbuttoned his jacket and pulled up his uniform shirt. Underneath the shirt was a large, thick girdle with a metal plate on it boasting a strange rune that seemed to be the symbol for male and female combined.

"Look! Ranma gave me a Girdle of Femininity/Masculinity!" Kurumu said with a grin, pointing to the conspicuous item. "I also borrowed his uniform, since he never wears it. And check out these abs! You could grind meat on my stomach!"

Tsukune stared down at the belt, and then up at Kurumu. "Okay... so, you're a girl?"

"What? No, I'm a boy," Kurumu said, looking confused.

"A boy who turns into a girl?" Tsukune clarified, pointing to the girdle.

"Why would I need to turn into a girl?" Kurumu asked, letting his shirt fall back into place.

"Why would you need to turn into a boy?" Tsukune countered.

"I don't 'need' to! I can stop any time I want!" the succubus protested.

"And if you DID stop, would you be a boy or a girl?" Tsukune asked, looking frustrated.

"Er... Well, because it's a cursed item, I can't just take it off, actually," Kurumu said uncertainly, scratching his head, "you need a magic spell or something."

"So you're a boy who can't turn into a girl."

Kurumu fell silent, slumping against the door as he massaged his head. "I have no idea why this is so hard."

Tsukune sighed. "Look, can I get by? I need to get back to the storage room me and Moka were going through earlier."

"Captain!" Keito shouted suddenly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder from behind.

"GYAAAA!" Tsukune jumped in surprise, nearly barreling over Kurumu as he spun around clumsily. "JESUS CHRIST!"

"Yes? What is it?" Jesus asked, pushing the door open and poking his head in.

"No, it's just an expression," Kurumu said, shaking his head, "you can go back."

"Where did you come from?" Tsukune demanded, staring angrily at Keito. He remembered the spider-woman quite well, though he tried to clamp down on his fear and anger at her; just because she was a heartless brute in his world didn't mean she was the same way in this one.

"Well, Miss Muscles here was blocking the doorway, so I used the back entrance," Keito explained, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why didn't you just knock?" Tsukune asked, annoyed.

"It's more fun this way," the spider woman said shamelessly, letting a smirk slide across her features.

"All right, whatever. What do you want?" Tsukune asked impatiently.

"There is a matter which demands your attention, Captain Aono," Keito said, slipping back into her more serious tone, "the school is under direct threat."

Tsukune groaned, massaging his head. 'I really don't have time for this!' He was all for vanquishing brutal monsters and such, but this fight had nothing to do with him. The longer he had to spend pretending to be the captain of the Protection Committee, the more likely he was to be found out, and the more likely that some calamity would befall the other Youkai Academy without him there to counter it.

"What happened? Some sort of student riot?" Kurumu asked, grinding a fist into his palm.

"Worse. Professor Richard hatched some kind of beast in the basements underneath the school," Keito explained, sighing as she crossed her arms over her chest, "some of the staff that work down there were killed, while a few escaped to report it. It's probably a matter of time before it begins a full-scale rampage through the school, so I recommend we deal with it now, while we can corner it easily."

"All right, all right," Tsukune said, a weariness in his voice that surprised the two monsters with him, "where's Moka?"

"She's out in the lobby, where Ranma was handing out precious artifacts," Kurumu said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

"All right, thanks," Tsukune murmured, stepping past the girl-turned-boy and into the hall.

After the door closed, Kurumu turned sharply toward Keito.

"Since when does Tsukune have a back entrance to his office?" the succubus demanded.

"Since the trapdoor spiders dug it in a week ago," Keito answered with a shrug, "I'm rather surprised he didn't say anything about it just now. I guess he knew it was there after all."

"Well, it's not right that there's a secret route into the captain's office that only you know about!" Kurumu said, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his iron-hard chest. "The security risk that this-"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I'll show you where it is," Keito interrupted, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, please!"

Hr

"-and for you, I found something in the weapon pile I think you'll really like," Ranma said, grinning as he held out a long item wrapped in sheets.

Kouma hesitantly took the gift, unsure of what to say. He was surprised, and certainly pleased, to see Ranma treat him as a friend in some way that didn't involve mocking or humiliating him, but he really wasn't sure how to act on the few occasions that his ever-present fog of furious resentment for the pigtailed boy lifted.

Deciding to just open the gift first, Kouma stripped the sheets from the object, finding it to be a long, curved, single-edged sword made of hard, pale chitin.

"What's this?" the hellhound asked, staring closely at what passed for the weapon's hilt. It looked like it had been attached to something at some point, and had bits of torn, dried flesh on that end.

"It's a bonesword! See the label on the side?" Ranma said, pointing to the strip of paper stuck on the alien blade.

"Oh, okay," Kouma said uncertainly, "not that I don't appreciate it, but I don't use swords, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Ranma agreed, "but it's a BONEsword."

Kouma's eyes narrowed. "You suck."

_Bop!_ Kouma pitched forward slightly as a red and white metal ball bounced off of his head.

He blinked as the sphere inexplicably froze in place mid-air, and then split open along the seam between the red and white portions.

"What the he-" Kouma was instantly zapped into the poke'ball, and the mysterious sphere snapped closed before it fell onto the floor.

Ranma rolled his eyes before turning around. "Mizore, don't use the slavery ball on Kouma! It's gotta be really cramped in there!"

The ball started wiggling back and forth on the floor as the snow woman walked up to it.

"I just wanted to see if it would work," Mizore said, kneeling down to stare at the struggling orb.

_Pop!_ "RAAAAUGH!" The poke'ball burst open, and Kouma appeared in a flare of light, having apparently changed to his true hellhound form at some point.

As the devil dog shook himself in confusion and fury, Mizore frowned down at the two halves of her souvenir, which had apparently broken apart during Kouma's forced exit. "Aw, you broke it..."

"I should break YOU!" Kouma snarled, whirling around as sparks blasted from between his teeth.

"Oh, calm down, you're fine," Ranma said, picking up the hound's new weapon, "here, try chewing on your new bone. Sword."

"I hate you all," the canine grumbled as Kana stepped up behind him.

"I don't understand why all this sheet music is presented as a series of buttons," Kana mumbled, holding a green flute in one hand while she used her other to navigate the touch-screen of a cell phone, "or why it's only available on GameFAQs."

"I dunno either. Try not to experiment too much with that thing, though. If it can generate wind from nowhere, there's no telling what else it can do," Ranma warned.

"Yeah, and tornadoes are your schtick, right?" Kouma said around a mouthful of grinding chitin as he gnawed on the end of the sword.

The others didn't respond to the jibe, staring at Kouma as the hellhound laid on the floor with his new weapon and wagged his tail.

"What? Say something! I dare you!" Kouma growled before biting down hard on the bonesword, splintering it.

It was about at that time that Tsukune entered the lobby, and the displaced human scanned the interior of the room before he found Moka near the corner, talking to Jesus Christ.

"Ah, Moka, there you are!" Tsukune said, immediately centering everyone's attention on him, "listen! The school is under attack! We have to do something!"

"Eh? What's wrong?" Ranma asked as Mizore and Kana promptly put away their gifts and moved to stand next to him.

"Some kind of monster in the basement," Tsukune replied.

"Of course there are monsters in the basement," Kouma grumbled, briefly putting down his bonesword, "what else would be down there?"

Tsukune rolled his eyes. "No, not a student monster. A monster-monster."

"Like, a student-monster TURNED monster-monster?" Moka asked.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was just recently hatched, so I don't think it had the opportunity to enroll," Tsukune said blithely.

"Well, did anyone ask it if it wanted to?" Mizore asked.

Tsukune was silent for several seconds as he stared at his alternate-world subordinates.

"Okay, this is a complete and utter tangent, but I really don't think I can ignore it anymore," the human boy admitted, "why is Jesus Christ here? He's... He's not part of the Committee, is he?"

"I'm on business, actually," said the son of God, waving his hand dismissively, "you needn't worry yourself."

"He's searching for Satan's daughter," Kouma said as he went back to chewing, "he thought we might know where she was, since we pretty much set her loose up here."

Ranma tried hard not to make eye contact with anyone as Moka shuddered.

"It's terrifying to think of the kind of terrible things she could be up to after being released in the human world," the vampiress said nervously.

Hr

"I know, right? But he STILL insisted on taking me out to dinner. So I was like, 'why not? Free meal, and I still get laid.' He totally wasn't my type though."

Lucy chatted without pause on her iPhone as she laid face-down and naked on a table covered in soft blankets. She was in her human form, which disguised her bright red skin as a rich tan and hid away her horns and tail, but otherwise failed to alter the absurdly oversexed proportions of her body.

A rather muscular man in a tank top was leaning over her, slowly massaging her back with a clinical efficiency as she talked away.

"Well, of course I did! But I didn't give him my real number afterward," Lucy said with a giggle, kicking her feet lazily, "so did you manage to score a few dime bags, or did those DAPC pigs get on your case again?"

She was silent for a few seconds, and then frowned. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

Taking the phone away from her ear, she glanced at the darkened screen and grimaced.

"Damn it to home! Out of juice AGAIN? I swear, I've given handjobs that last longer than this thing's battery!"

Sighing, she put the phone down on the desk next to her head, and then flashed a lecherous smirk toward her masseuse. "So are you almost done with my back, hot stuff? Because I think it's about time you started rubbing down my front."

The man favored her with a strictly disinterested glance. "Not part of the package, Miss. Also, I'm gay."

Lucy quirked an eyebrow. "Tell me more."

"Well, my boyfriend actually has the appointment right after yours."

"Hawt. Can I watch?"

Hr

"Truly, this plague of corruption and darkness must be stopped," Jesus said grimly, his arms crossed over his chest, "but you have another task before you that requires your full attention, Aono Tsukune, if this institution is to be saved."

"Hey, we don't have time to be standing around!" Yukari shouted as she swept into the room, holding a crystal ball in her arms. "We've got an enemy on the loose!"

"What're we looking at?" Ranma demanded, stepping up as Yukari put down the orb on the coffee table that dominated the room.

"This," Yukari said, waving her hand slowly over the crystal ball, "a beast hatched from the egg that Professor Richard took."

As everyone stepped closer, the mists within the sphere parted, revealing a monstrous, bipedal beast twice as large as Chopper's troll form. It had a segmented, chitinous carapace that was bone white with purple armor plates along its back and in prominent places all over its body, a long, ax-tipped tail, and four arms, every one of them holding a gigantic saber that looked like an oversized version of the one Kouma was chewing on.

"What IS it?" Kurumu asked as he and Keito joined the others in the lobby studying the terrible monster.

Hr

"One of the Tyranid's deadliest bio weapons: the Swarmlord," growled an enormous man with white hair in a crew cut as he stood before Ms. Nekonome's usual monster encyclopedia chalkboard. He was wearing a suit of red futuristic plate mail with white shoulder pads and carried a two-handed hammer taller than most humans, which looked out of place enough even without considering he was playing the part of a glorified Wikipedia entry.

"Insidious and deadly, even among hive tyrants, an engine of martial devastation, psychic fury, and the deepest intellect..." rumbled the Space Marine, trailing off as he gripped his hammer tightly, "ill tidings for the academy, which hung ever more tenuously on the edge of oblivion."

After a few seconds of silence, Shizuka Nekonome poked her head into the room.

"Uh, Mister Angelos? Is that all you have to say about it?" she asked hesitantly.

In response, he suddenly hefted his hammer into the air, screaming a battle cry for no apparent reason. "RETRIBUTION!"

Hr

"All right then, what's the plan?" Ranma asked, turning toward Tsukune.

The younger human glanced around at the others uncertainly. "Uh... wait. I'm confused. Do we... act like we didn't just see that, or...?"

"Hasn't been covered. I wouldn't worry about it," Yukari muttered, shrugging, "seriously though, what are we doing?"

Tsukune took a deep breath, realizing that, as captain, it was up to him to take charge and eliminate this threat. "All right, I see what we have to do. Moka!"

The vampiress straightened, rather surprised that she would be the first one called on. "Yes?"

"Come with me. We'll take care of this," Tsukune said, smiling confidently at the vampiress.

There was a good four seconds of absolute silence before Ranma laughed.

"Ha! Oh, man! You actually had me going for a minute there!" the martial artist said, chuckling as he stepped up and slapped the younger human on the shoulder. "No, really, what's the plan?"

"That is the plan," Tsukune said, stepping away from the strange pigtailed boy uncomfortably, "come on, Moka."

Tsukune and a rather bewildered Moka started making their way toward the exit, the rest of the Protection Committee being too utterly flabbergasted to protest.

Yukari barely managed to recover her wits to speak up before they reached the door. "Wait, so... what are the rest of us doing, then?"

"Just wait here," Tsukune insisted, opening the door for Moka before following her out, "we'll be back soon."

Then the door closed, an another long silence descended upon the remaining Committee members.

Oddly enough, Kana was the first to speak, turning toward Ranma. "Well, let me be the first to congratulate you on your imminent promotion to captain of the Protection Committee."

Kurumu and Ranma both flinched, and the former started panicking.

"Wait! We can't just let him walk in there with Moka! He'll be torn apart!" she said fearfully.

"Worse, Moka will be killed too!" Yukari exclaimed in horror, "even Evil Moka is no match for that thing!"

"Whoa, guys, hold your demon steeds," Kouma said, standing up (though he was still in his hellhound form), "this is the captain we're talking about. Do you really think he'd just stroll right into the enemy lair with no backup without having a solid plan to take care of this?"

Ranma frowned. "What kind of a plan can he pull off with just Moka?"

"I don't know. But that's kind of the point," Kouma said, finally changing back to a human in a burst of fire, "Aono can come up with ideas that don't rely on shoving overwhelming force into the enemy's face until they fall down. He's come through for us before, and I'm sure he knows what he's doing. So I think he'd appreciate it more if you believed in him rather than rushing off to disobey orders."

Ranma pursed his lips, but eventually nodded as he accepted the hellhound's logic. "You're right. We could accidentally ruin everything if we go after him now."

"I kind of wish he had actually given us something to do though, rather than just 'wait here'," Yukari griped, "I mean, what, there's no need to do routine patrols or maybe set up a defensive perimeter while he's carrying out his brilliant strategy?"

"Nope, guess not," Mizore said with a shrug.

Yet another long silence filled the room.

"Well, who's up for playing an old, cryptic board game I found with the plot devices?" Ranma asked, picking up an old, weathered box with the word "Juumanji" on the top.

"Okay, yeah, might as well."

hr

"Tsukune, are you sure about this?" Moka said nervously, following the human boy down a flight of creaking stairs into the shabby underbelly of the academy, "shouldn't we have brought the others along? I really feel like we should have brought the others along."

Tsukune shook his head as he pushed forward. "If this Swarmlord is as dangerous as the encyclo... uh... as dangerous as its reputation suggests, then the others could be killed in an instant. We have to take care of this ourselves."

"Okay..." Moka mumbled slowly, perplexed as to why Tsukune had written off Ranma as a casualty waiting to happen. She'd always thought that, if anything, Tsukune severely overestimated the martial artist, and assumed Ranma was invincible. "So what are we going to do, then?"

Tsukune halted as he stepped into the old hallway, glancing up at a dim, flickering light mounted on the ceiling. He actually hadn't thought of any plan beyond unleashing Inner Moka and charging the beast, and then moving on toward the storage vaults behind it, but maybe there was a better way.

"Didn't they say that Professor Richard hatched the Swarmlord?" Tsukune asked, trying and failing to recall any teacher by that name in his dimension. "Do you think he lost control of it?"

Moka blinked, not having thought of that. "I don't know," she admitted, "but why would that matter?"

"Well, do you think a teacher would let this creature go on a bloody rampage if he could prevent it?" Tsukune asked, quite reasonably feeling that no instructor could be so pointlessly destructive.

"Yes, absolutely," Moka said without hesitation, "though I admit that he'd be more likely to chain it up as a guard pet in some part of the academy that people frequently use, or put it in a pit under his classroom and drop students into it via a trap door."

As Tsukune's mind boggled at the casual way in which Moka described the sanctioned massacre of Youkai Academy's students, another voice interrupted them.

"I actually hadn't thought of that last one. The trap doors would take some time to build, and I'd need to custom order a gold bikini for when I eventually take you captive, but it's still workable," Richard said thoughtfully, causing both of the teenagers to spin around to face him.

Or rather, spin around, and then look down onto the floor where Richard was lying on his belly, several slash marks cutting across his back. He was dragging himself along by his claw-tipped fingers, and had pulled himself up past a corner such that only his upper torso was visible to the pair.

"Professor Richard," Moka grumbled, "I don't suppose you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Yes, actually," Richard said seriously, propping up his chin on his elbows, "fatherhood is not as joyful and rewarding as I was led to believe."

_Urrrraaaaaaaugh!_ A distant roar came from within the broken hallways, and the walls trembled as bits of dirt and clumps of mildew sprinkled down on them from the ceiling.

"They grow up so fast," Richard said with a melodramatic sigh, "before long he'll be off to space college, calling me to send him money while drunkenly humping half his hive fleet."

"Can we be serious about this for a minute?" Tsukune asked, finding this instructor incredibly annoying.

"All right, you have sixty seconds. Go!"

"First of all, why did you hatch that egg?" Moka asked, glaring at the warlock.

"It was either that or the world's largest omelet, and I didn't have any onions," Richard replied.

"You said you were going to be serious," Tsukune growled.

"I was," Richard said with a shrug, still lying at the teenagers' feet, "I lost the ability to tell between drama and comedy long ago, when I found out that lighting people on fire tends to generate both of them at once. It's confusing."

Tsukune meant to give Moka an incredulous look, but the vampiress was entirely focused on Richard, as if she wasn't fazed by his bizarre behavior.

"What will you do if it gets loose and starts attacking the students?" Moka demanded.

"Watch," Richard said without a trace of deceit, irony, or remorse, "still being serious."

"Can you still control the Swarmlord at all?" Tsukune asked, deciding to get to the heart of the matter.

In response, Richard clutched the floor and dragged himself forward on his belly, dragging the rest of his body into view. What little of it there was left, anyway. Richard had been torn apart at the waist, and the warlock's intestines trailed behind his torso on top of a trail of curiously luminescent green slime.

Tsukune promptly clamped his hands over his mouth, his bile rising at the horrific sight.

Moka, oddly enough, merely sighed, brushing off the disturbing image. "So it's already out of control, then?"

"He's just in his rebellious phase," Richard said defensively, "by the way, your sixty seconds are up."

"Did you at least manage to wound it?" Moka asked.

"Yes, but it didn't help," Richard grumbled, "I don't care what anyone says, a 3+ invulnerable save on a monstrous creature is ridiculous, even if it's only in close combat."

Neither Moka nor Tsukune had anything to say to that, until the latter finally asked, "Can we be serious for another minute?"

"No. This is all far too amusing," Richard insisted.

"You've had your legs ripped off, people have been killed, and an alien beast is threatening to demolish the school!" Tsukune snapped. "You think that's amusing?"

"Yes, tremendously," Richard answered simply, "do you have any other stupid questions I can answer?"

"No, I think we're done," Moka confessed half-heartedly as she stepped past the horribly maimed warlock.

Tsukune was much more hesitant about leaving the injured teacher there in the hall, but eventually relented and followed the pink-haired girl further into gloom.

"Okay, so what are we going to do, exactly?" Moka asked, glancing uncomfortably at a long, deep cut in the wall the ran at least four meters long. The halls, which had been in bad shape before, were now all but destroyed, with the floor a mess of splinters and the ceiling riddled with gouges and holes.

"We're going to find that Swarmlord, and then I'll unleash you inner self," Tsukune finally said after a moment's hesitation.

He had to admit that he had been unsure how to approach this matter, as he didn't know how the other Tsukune usually treated the matter of Moka's devastatingly powerful split personality, but ultimately decided that honesty was the best policy.

Moka, for her part, froze on the spot, completely stunned.

_'Wait, seriously? He's letting me out? He's being serious right now? YES!'_ Evil Moka's voice was uncommonly giddy, like a girl who had just accepted her first invitation to a dance. Moka would have actually found the tone quite humorous but for one consideration.

"You... want ME to fight it? ALONE?" Moka asked, her face paling as her rosario trembled.

"No! You won't be alone! I'll be with you the whole time!" Tsukune said, giving her a confident, reassuring smile.

"... You want ME to fight it? ALONE?" Moka repeated incredulously.

_'Hey, knock it off! Do NOT mess this up for me, Pinky!'_ Evil Moka growled as best she could over the telepathic link. _'You just go on and hand him the cross. I'll handle this "Swarmlord" chump and even Ranma will have to-'_

"SSSHRRREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAUGH!"

Moka and Tsukune fell to their knees as a keening howl rolled through the halls underneath the academy, causing the walls to shake and the only nearby light bulb to burst like a soap bubble, plunging the area into darkness.

Moka clutched at her ears, feeling the scream of the alien beast rattle around in her head like a physical thing. Fear of a sort she had never known before invaded her thoughts, paralyzing her. It was an unfamiliar, almost chemical feeling, as if the suffocating terror were a drug seeping through her muscles and leaving them as rubber.

Tsukune was shaken just as badly, but the psionic screech had the dubious benefit of agitating his corrupted ghoul blood. He shuddered as a hot pulse ran through his body, but fought to suppress the boiling hunger responding to the cry of the Devourer. There was no way he wanted lose his grip on sanity now.

_'Okay, fine, so we might be a LITTLE outgunned,'_ Evil Moka admitted, which was about as close as the vampiress got to desperate panic, _'there's no reason why we couldn't have just a few of the others to help us out, is there? As decoys, maybe?'_

"Tsukune, th-this was not a good p-plan," Moka stuttered, standing up shakily as her knees quaked, "we have to get out of here!" The scream still rang in her head, despite the fact that the actual sonic echo had long faded.

"Wait, Moka," Tsukune said uncertainly, holding a hand over his thundering heart as he searched the darkness for the vampire girl. As close as he was to being a ghoul, his sense of vision was still perfectly mundane, and he could barely hear her over the psychic scream still rattling around in his skull. "Relax! We can do this! YOU can do this! You're the most powerful monster in the school! An unstoppable force of nature!"

"I... you really think so?" Moka asked, her face reddening somewhat. Tsukune had never displayed confidence in her combat skills before, instead seeing her as someone to be protected. Although her inner self frequently complained that she was treated as second best in the Protection Committee, honestly speaking she was usually ranked dead bottom; ordinarily Tsukune would rush into battle himself before he'd let Moka do any serious fighting.

Tsukune oriented on the voice, and focused on the two red, glowering slits hovering near the ceiling. "Yes, absolutely! I've seen you in action, and there's nothing you... you... you don't have eyes that big."

Moka blinked, not understanding what he meant. "My eyes? What do they have-"

_Thwump!_ The flat of a massive bonesword smashed into the side of the vampiress, knocking her off her feet and sending her crashing through the adjacent wall.

Tsukune flinched back as the new hole in the wall flooded the hallway with light, fully illuminating their target.

He immediately appreciated how much less horrifying the creature was when projected into Yukari's crystal ball. Even hunched over, with its arms tucked in at awkward angles and the horns on its back digging furrows in the ceiling, the alien was a titan of iron-hard carapace and massive blades, all topped by an elongated head full of sword-like teeth. Around its skull floated a cloud of luminescent green, and just looking at the abomination's eyes caused a feeling of terror much deeper and more oppressive than any natural fear.

Still, the Swarmlord was staring at the hole in the wall at the moment, and Tsukune had long practice at shaking off overwhelming fear when nearby girls were in danger. He tore his gaze away from the alien and made a dash after Moka.

_Thump!_ He jerked to a stop as a single bonesword chopped down in front of him, causing the ground to shake briefly and blocking his path up to his waist.

The Swarmlord did not even glance at the human as it shouldered its way through the hole in the wall, ripping through masonry, wood and piping as if it were a mere spider's web (or at least, a normal spider's web, given that some of the ones around campus were stronger than Kevlar). Metal plumbing, long corroded by years of neglect and poor monster workmanship, snapped apart at the Swarmlord's passing, spitting water into the air as the alien emerged on the other side of wall.

Tsukune paled as the sword in front of him was lifted from the floor and carried away by the alien monstrosity. "Moka! Look out! It's-"

_Thwack!_ Tsukune was smacked aside by an almost casual swing of the Swarmlord's tail, smashing his ribcage in and sending him hurtling through the air.

"GYUGH!" He hit the wall opposite the severely damaged one, bouncing off and onto his face as bits of debris showered onto his back.

"Augh! Jesus!" Tsukune shouted, pushing himself up against the furious protests of his body. His breath was weakening even as his lungs demanded air, and his head spun from the impact mixing with the psychic poison of the alien horror.

"Moka! No!" His eyes managed to focus enough to see the illuminated hole in the wall... which wasn't so much a hole anymore, since it was more than five meters wide and seemed to have carved out the entire wall of the room on the other side. A huge, dark shape obscured much of the light coming from the room's overhead lights, casting a terrifying shadow that slowly advanced through the room, despite the fact that it now had enough space to move almost unimpeded.

Tsukune could feel it... Moka's vampiric blood, rushing to his head, raging in response to the desperate fear of the Tyranid's psychic aura. It demanded action, demanded blood, and as it beckoned to him, Tsukune embraced it, for in his desperation the power offered by insanity and ghoulhood would have to do.

'Even if she's not the Moka I know, even if I might die here as an insane monster, I can't just let her die! I WON'T!' he screamed in his head, feeling the rush of heat as darkness and hate overwhelmed him.

And then, suddenly, he felt a hand touch his shoulder, and the pain, the rage, and the howling bloodlust all instantly drained away.

Confused, frightened, and just a bit disappointed, Tsukune glanced backward to see what had happened, and who had intruded upon his desperate gambit.

The smiling, curly-bearded face of Jesus Christ stared down at him, smiling warmly. "You called?"

Hr

Moka coughed as she staggered to her feet, using a metal drum to support herself. Half her body was in severe pain from being plowed through a wall, while the other half felt numb from the psionic energy field that had smashed into her and brutally seared her nervous system.

"What... What WAS that?" Moka asked nobody, holding her head in her hands.

_'Would you like to turn around and ask?'_ Evil Moka quipped. Heavy footfalls, punctuated by the sound of splintering wood, issued from behind them, and Moka's thoughts cleared as survival instinct began to take control of her mind.

Moka spun around drunkenly, her eyes widening as she saw the massive beast slowly advancing toward her.

The Swarmlord had is four arms spread, its swords forming an edged barrier that crossed the entire width of the room and scraped long gouges in the walls to either side of the beast. Its eyes regarded Moka with a hungry curiosity, as if fascinated, but it hardly gave any hope that this encounter might end in anything less than her brutal murder and consumption.

_'All right, let's see about breaking the seal on our own, yeah? I think this is a good time to see if that can happen!'_

Moka whirled around, checking to see if there was another exit. It was at this point that she finally got a good look at the other half of the room, and saw just what had been collected in this area.

Red barrels, marked fuel drums, bundles of TNT, crates of ammunition, fireworks, and even the occasional bowling-ball style cartoon bomb had been piled into a massive wall that stretched from floor to ceiling, and seemed to only take up a small portion of the otherwise cavernous room.

"Wait, where are we?" Moka asked in a panic, not seeing an exit.

_'This looks like the explosives storage area,'_ Evil Moka said.

"Where's the door? There was no door on the wall that the Swarmlord knocked us through!" Moka insisted desperately.

_'It looks like Tobaki stacked all the explosives as close as possible to the entrance, making the best use of vertical space so that she could complete the job as quickly as possible,'_ Evil Moka noted wryly, _'how efficient of her.'_

"We're cut off from the exit by a wall made of BOMBS?" Moka cried.

_'Yes. Any progress on that seal-breaking thing? Because I think I can just about smell the alien's breath by now.'_

Moka whirled back around, her heart thundering in her chest as the Swarmlord loomed over her. Caustic saliva drooled from between its knife-like teeth, and it slowly pulled its boneswords inward to surround the vampiress with blades.

Another telepathic voice roared in Moka's head, and to her shock and terror, it wasn't her darker counterpart's.

_'You... Ancient power... Threat... Consume... Absorb... Evolve...'_ Moka could feel its ravenous hunger as the Swarmlord's mind invaded hers, and the teenage vampire slumped to her knees as the alien crossed its swords to scissor her in two.

It hesitated. The Swarmlord slowly turned its head around as it felt something nearby agitating its psionic senses, its swords pulling back toward its body in alarm and a curious sense of dread.

"The xeno comes not but to steal, and to kill and to destroy," came a voice from beyond the massive tear in the wall as the Swarmlord turned completely around, "I am come so that their victims might have life, and that they might have it for much longer."

Jesus approached through the gaping hole in the wall, walking past the broken piping without regard for the arc of rushing water blasting from the twisted steel. The rushing fountain bent impossibly around him, the water refusing to land upon the messiah's skin as the Israelite passed into the room proper.

The Swarmlord's feet shifted, the psychic glow that danced around its horned skull flaring in intensity. Moka was forgotten completely as the alien faced this new threat, sensing an unprecedented level of danger.

"Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone," Jesus said solemnly, his pity-filled gaze locked on the luminescent eyes of the monstrous alien.

_CRACK!_ Jesus' hand suddenly grabbed onto the concrete foundation of the wall, his fingers sinking into the stone as if it were mere communion crackers.

"That means I go first," the son of God said, lifting the mass of concrete overhead as bits of rebar twisted and snapped off from its foundation.

The Swarmlord roared angrily as Jesus hurled the hunk of debris at him, and the alien's blades rose and fell as one, carving the projectile apart and smash it to the ground.

Jesus broke into a run, his sandals striking the floor with a distinctly unintimidating _Clop! Clop! Clop! _as he ran.

The Swarmlord pivoted on one leg, sending one blade down on the Messiah as the other three moved to guard its massive torso.

Jesus clapped his hands onto the sides of the bonesword as it descended, stopping it dead even as the floor instantly buckled beneath his feet, throwing dust and shattered wood into the air.

_'See? You didn't listen to me and here we are again, watching helplessly as some puny human takes care of business,' _Evil Moka complained.

'That's the son of God,' Moka noted in her head, watching as Jesus kicked away a defending bonesword and then backflipped away as two more came at him from either side.

_'My point is that we could be fighting aliens and saving the day and being awesome RIGHT NOW, but instead we're having our shapely butt saved again. Don't you think we should start being a little more active in our survival?'_

'I think we should start going to mass on Sundays,' Moka thought back, her eyes locked on the titanic battle that was unfolding before her.

"HYAH!" Jesus once again clapped his hands down on a bonesword that had been stabbed at him, his sandals dragging across the floor as he was pushed back by the might of the alien monstrosity.

"Love your enemies!" the Messiah shouted, "bless them that curse you! Do good to them that hate you! Pray for them that use you!"

Jesus jumped up, landing on the back of the bonesword before dashing straight toward the snarling alien.

"LOVE KNUCKLE!" He shouted, slamming a fist into the Swarmlord's head that sent the alien reeling.

"BLESSINGS OF PAIN!" Jesus started raining blows on the monstrosity, which was too close to use its massive swords to any useful effect. The Messiah's fists were like thunderbolts upon the Tyranid's armor, and where His fists struck chitin and bones alike split apart.

"ROUNDHOUSE OF GOOD!" His sandal smashed into the alien's chest carapace with a sharp crack, like a hammer splitting ceramic, and the son of God backflipped into the air as his enemy staggered painfully.

"PRAYER BEAM ALPHA!" He shouted, holding his forearms in the shape of a cross as holy light swallowed the Israelite and infused him with righteous power.

A lance of white light blasted into the Swarmlord, knocking it back into the wall of explosives as Moka yelped and scurried away.

Miraculously, nothing detonated as the Swarmlord crashed into the massive pile of bombs, missiles and fuel, and red drums and numerous grenades rained on the Tyranid's head in a dangerously volatile avalanche as it hissed in pain.

"Moka! Are you all right?" Tsukune asked, stepping into the room through the massive tear in the wall.

Moka brightened instantly, having feared that the Swarmlord had killed him as soon as she was out of the way. "Yes! I'm fine! I knew you had a real plan to fight the Swarmlord!" she crowed, rushing forward and grabbing onto the human boy's arms.

"Uh... No, not really," Tsukune admitted somewhat bitterly, "this was never part of my plan. Being saved by Jesus-"

"Again," the Israelite interjected swiftly, otherwise looking like he had no interest in the conversation.

"... Being saved again wasn't part of any plan. Mister Christ just did that on his own."

"I am the good shepherd," Jesus said, his head bowed, "the good shepherd gives his life for his sheep. Even the useless, blood-sucking ones." He raised his head slightly to stare at Moka, whose expression darkened appropriately.

"Hrrrraaugh..." A rumbling growl once again brought everyone's attention to the alien monster at the end of the room, and Moka and Tsukune stepped back fearfully as the Swarmlord pushed itself up. Fuel ran from its armored carapace in tiny streams, draining through natural valleys and crevices and seeping into deep cracks that struggled to seal themselves before running into a growing puddle of potential devastation that mixed freely with alien ichor at the Swarmlord's feet.

"That thing's still not dead?" Tsukune asked fearfully, backing away as Moka clung pleasantly to his arm.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," Jesus intoned, taking one step forward and then gesturing to the Swarmlord, "come, xeno. Recover your wits. I would have you attack me again."

"SSSSHRREEEEEEEAUGH!" The Swarmlord's roar shook the floors and walls of the room, and Moka and Tsukune clung to each other to remain standing as once again a wave of pure psionic terror slammed into them.

Jesus stood fast in the path of the psychic assault, a golden aura shimmering around him as the waves of malevolent Warp energy broke against his spirit like water.

The Swarmlord charged, its steps unsteady as the four massive blades swung back, ready to descend on the Israelite in a cascade of crushing chops.

_Whap!_ Jesus struck the flat of the first bonesword as it fell, knocking it off path to carve uselessly into the floor with a heavy _THUD!_

_Whap! Whap! Whap!_ With eerie calm and divine precision, the Messiah deflected each one of the other swords before he took a heavy step forward and smashed both palms into the Swarmlord's abdomen.

_BWOOM!_ The back of the alien broke apart, spewing chunks of thick purple carapace and luminescent ichor on the nearby wall as the alien screamed in pain and fury.

"He is the Lord, and I am his shepherd!" Jesus yelled, his eyes glowing with holy righteousness as his aura burned hotter around him, threatening to ignite the fuel soaking the alien's exoskeleton, "get your wretched claws away from my sheep, alien filth!"

Tsukune gulped as his - and everyone else's - savior started to float in front of the dazed alien, His aura glowing brighter and hotter.

"I think we should get out of here!" he shouted, gripping Moka's arm tightly as he fled for the hallways. The vampiress made no argument, likewise worried about the presence of fire (holy or not) so close to so many munitions.

"Let your light so shine before men, that they might see your good works, and banish the xenos filth to its rightful tomb in the abyss of the Empyrean!" Jesus shouted, holding his arms back behind him as a sphere of hovering flame coalesced between them.

The Swarmlord's red, soulless gaze dimmed as full awareness of its defeat settled upon it. It felt no hate or fear as its body ignited from the mounting heat, only a final, exhausting catharsis as its all-consuming hunger finally fell from its consciousness.

"Let the full glory of the Almighty Lord consume you, alien!" Jesus cried, holding the swelling sphere of power above his head before shoving it forward. "PRAYER BEAM OMEGAAAAAAA!"

hr

"You... You w-won't... get away with this," sputtered one of the Headmaster's bodyguards, blood drooling from the corner of his mouth.

He was currently pinned to the wall of a rather poorly-maintained hallway, courtesy of a Mido's massive talons. The monstrel himself had his other hand in his pocket, looking rather bored by the unsatisfying violence. The guard's short sword lay at his feet, twisted about like an abused paperclip.

All throughout the hall, the monstrels cornered and pounced on the Headmaster's guardians as the youkai hybrids swiftly eliminated all resistance in the area. Some were simply mobbed and disarmed, their attackers not even bothering to shift from their human forms as they beat and kicked the poorly-armed grunts, while others were dispatched quickly by those monstrels with useful abilities.

Either way, the guard of a mere eight men were neutralized within minutes, its unconscious members being dumped into a pile as Mido slowly crushed his target against the wall.

"The Headmaster... will..."

"He'll what?" Mido demanded, moving his face closer to the struggling mook, "what's the Headmaster going to do? He didn't do anything when me and my kind were being picked out and jumped after classes. He didn't do anything when we banded together and started systematically killing other students in revenge. He didn't even do anything when the Enforcers got off our case out of fear of being killed wholesale."

A smirk crossed his scarred face. "And you think he's going to lift a finger to punish us for beating you goons? I'd like to see him show up and try, the lazy prick."

With a snort of contempt, Mido pulled the guard away from the wall and tossed him into the pile of unconscious and badly wounded grunts behind him.

_Crack!_ Mido stepped on the damaged sword that lay in front of him, snapping the weapon in half.

"He couldn't even afford REAL weapons for his guards. No wonder things get so bad around here," Tsukune said sadly, shaking his head as he stepped into the hallway after making sure the coast was clear, "if the Headmaster can't exert any influence, then what's the point of having one?"

"Yeah, well maybe this will send a message for the loser to shape up," Mido snarled, letting his arm wither and shrink back to its disguised human proportions, "but probably not. You all clear, Aono? Still don't know why you wanted to get into this place, but it's all yours now."

"Call me Tsukune," Tsukune said with a smile, fearlessly approaching the sneering brawler, "and I just want to say that I am really, really proud of you guys. Today I've seen what you monstrels are really made of, and I know that you - ALL of you - have a better future ahead of you."

The many lesser monstrels started making embarrassed chuckles and giving each other high fives, and Mido hesitated as Tsukune extended a hand to shake.

"No matter what some jaded, stuck-up pure breed says about you, I'm really glad you guys have my back. I'd take you over them any day."

Mido finally stepped forward, but to Tsukune's surprise the monstrel leader ignored his hand and enveloped him in a tight hug. The human boy flinched at first from the strength of the embrace, but endured it for several seconds before Mido released him and stepped back again, his face obviously straining to suppress his emotions.

"No homo," Mido said gruffly as he turned around, walking toward the others, "good luck with whatever you need to do here. See you later... Tsukune."

Tsukune, for his part, offered a brief wave in the monstrels' direction before taking off into the stairs leading to the underhalls.

'I really hope the other Tsukune is keeping things under wraps in my universe,' the Captain of the Protection Committee thought as he dashed through the darkened tunnels, well aware that the giant spiders hiding in the corners were likely to be less friendly than the ones back at home and taking care to avoid any obtrusive webs, 'frankly, his academy is a mess. What has he been doing all this time?'

Shaking his head as he reached the storage room, Tsukune was gratified to find that it was full of dusty, sheet-covered artifacts, exactly as before he and his subordinates had cleaned it. Some things really didn't change.

He took a note out of his pocket, unfolded it and then left it in the middle of the dust-covered doorway, where it would be almost impossible to miss.

"Dear Tsukune," it began, "assuming everything goes as planned, this note should reach you after I successfully swap places with you again and return to my original timeline. Just so you know, I rescued Moka from the monstrels, since I couldn't find Ranma Saotome to help me out this time. Does he even go to school here in this timeline? I really have no idea how you've survived without him around, but I don't envy you one bit if you have. Anyway, Moka is fine, but it seemed like she wanted to talk to you about something. I had more important things to do at the time, so just a heads up. Also, I think I saw Mizore following me a while back. Is she stalking you? Seriously? If so, you really need to find Ranma. Good luck and best wishes, Tsukune."

"P.S. I talked to the monstrels that kidnapped Moka and convinced them to turn their energies to community service and social justice rather than petty revenge killings. So, in case you were wondering, that's why they're planting flower gardens rather than trying to murder you and everyone you love. You're welcome."

hr

"Do you... Do you think he's gone?" Moka asked.

Tsukune turned his head to regard the vampiress, his shirt torn and his bandage wrappings newly bloodied. The both of them were covered with dirt and bits of debris, having barely escaped the explosion as it caved in most of the tunnels and, incidentally, buried the vaults in which lay Tsukune's best hope of returning to his universe.

"Moka, I'm sure Mister Christ is just fine. Or, you know, if he's not, I'm pretty sure it will be okay anyway. He does have that whole resurrection thing going on, as I understand it," he mumbled, sighing as he saw that Moka seemed genuinely worried for the fate of their Savior.

Moka accepted the answer, but then frowned at Tsukune, noticing that the young human looked depressed, for some reason. "Is something wrong? You don't seem happy about beating the Swarmlord."

"Yeah, sorry. I just hoped we wouldn't have to bury the basements to do it."

Glancing at his filthy arms as he and Moka exited the stairwell, Tsukune immediately turned toward the nearest restroom. "I gotta go wash up. See you later," he said listlessly.

Once in the bathroom, Tsukune headed straight for the sink and started washing his arms, staring glumly into the mirror.

Putting aside that his "plan" to defeat the alien had been an utter failure and nearly gotten Moka killed and him turned into a ghoul, and also putting aside that he'd had to be bailed out by the human race's ultimate Deus Ex Machina while watching uselessly from the sidelines, since the underhalls collapsed from the explosion he was effectively cut off from the magic mirror that was supposed to spirit him home.

Meaning that he was now stuck in this world until the vaults were excavated, if they ever would be. Heck, even then he might not be able to go home.

Tsukune splashed water on his face, and then watched as the muddy droplets ran down his face and dripped into the sink.

"Damn it! I didn't ask for this!" he snapped, grabbing the sink mirror and glaring at it as if this were the fault of all reflective surfaces in general. "I don't want the responsibility of running the Enforcers and dealing with huge aliens and hanging out with bloodthirsty trolls! Let me go back to my own world, you stupid mirror!"

The mirror started to glow.

"Oh. Uh..." Tsukune's fury deflated as the mirror's glow faded enough to reveal another Tsukune, noticeably cleaner as he was busy attaching a red armband to his sleeve. "Sorry, I didn't know I just had to ask," he mumbled in embarrassment, "thank you?"

Lightning flashed from the mirror surface, and in a split second Tsukune was instantly replaced with Tsukune.

"Well, that was way easier than I thought," Tsukune said as he dusted off his pants and tugged on his armband, "I hope I landed in the right universe and I'm not stuck in some kind of Sliders plot. I never watched past the fourth episode of that show."

Stepping out of the bathroom, he entered the hall just as Moka was emerging from the women's restroom nearby.

"Hey Moka," Tsukune said immediately, "quick question: I'm captain of the Protection Committee, right?"

Moka blinked, rather surprised to hear such a strange question. Then again, Tsukune had been acting somewhat odd today.

"Yes, you are," she said slowly.

"Awesome. Did anything important or unusual happen recently that I should really know about but I'm asking you about it anyway?"

"Uh... Well, a huge alien appeared in the underhalls of the academy, you and I went on a suicide mission to destroy it, and Jesus Christ came and rescued us, blowing up the explosives storage room in the process and probably causing lots of damage to the school building," she explained awkwardly, pointing to wall and the numerous hairline cracks that covered it.

"Ah, okay. Thanks," Tsukune said cheerfully, heading toward the stairs toward the Committee offices. 'Better than I'd hoped. That other Tsukune sure likes to do things the hard way.'

"Are you all right? What happened to all those bandages?" Moka asked. It was also weird how Tsukune looked completely unscathed now; not only was he completely dry, despite having just washed up, but his uniform had evidently mended itself and he found time to comb the dust and drywall bits out of his hair despite them still covering Moka's.

Tsukune thought about his answer for a moment. "Magic shenanigans."

"Oh, okay," Moka said with a relieved smile, glad that it wasn't anything unusual or serious.

As they started walking back up to the offices, Moka giggled. "So I guess we owe Mister Christ twice now, don't we?"

"Well, I do," Tsukune said, glancing back at the vampiress, "you only owe him once."

"What?" Moka's smile vanished.

"He didn't save the vampires, remember? At least, that's what Kouma implied when we visited Hell. Kind of sad, I guess, but we can't expect Jesus to die for EVERYONE," Tsukune explained.

"... No, actually. I didn't remember that until just now," Moka mumbled sadly.

"Well, don't take it personally. Maybe we can put in a personal request if we meet him again," Tsukune suggested as they reached the top of the stairs and the front door of the offices, "anyway, let's see what the others have been up to while we were busy almost dying due to my incompetence."

He opened the door.

An animal scream greeted the pair, nearly blowing their hair back with its intensity.

"Ha! Got it!" Chopper said cheerily, his arms wrapped around the neck of a silverback mountain gorilla from behind as the beast bellowed and slammed the ground helplessly with its hand, pinned beneath the mighty wrestler. "And in human form, too! Squeal, you tree-hugging pansy!"

Kouma, who had adopted hellhound form but was at least refraining from using fire, bit savagely into the throat of a male lion that was almost as big as he was as he wrestled with it, washing his face in the animal's blood.

Behind him, Kurumu laughed as he fought off the lion's pride, his hands having shifted into sets of armored talons rather than the fragile-looking extended nails that he was used to. "Come on, what are you afraid of?" he taunted, slashing his claws in front of him as the vicious felines backed away fearfully. Many of them already sported deep wounds, and one lioness that had actually managed to bite Kurumu had been sliced completely in half for her trouble.

Kouma spit out the meat from his kill, blood sizzling as it dripped from his jaws. "Why are you still a guy?"

"It's a cursed item, all right? I can't just take it off whenever I want!" Kurumu snapped before leaping forward onto a terrified lioness.

"I offered to take it off before we even started playing," Yukari noted dryly. She was holding a fishing pole up in the air with a magical bug zapper hanging from the line, watching as mosquitoes and flies the size of baseballs ran into it and got blasted by vicious tendrils of lightning.

"Look, I told you, give me a full day, all right?" Kurumu shouted as he and the lion clawed at each other, with the incubus holding a clear advantage in damage and leverage.

Kouma gave him a sidelong glance as the hellhound walked over to Chopper, who had started slamming the gorilla's head into the ground repeatedly.

"I think she just wants some time alone to try out the equipment," Kouma murmured, trying to keep his voice low enough so that Kurumu couldn't overhear.

_CRUNCH!_ Chopper smiled and wiped the sweat off his brow as the gorilla's struggles finally ceased. "Well, it IS pretty neat." Then the wrestler turned around. "Hey, Vice-Boss! Whose turn is it?"

"Huh? Oh, it's Keito's turn," Ranma mumbled, crouching over the Juumanji game board among a veritable sea of giant spiders.

"In a minute!" Keito said, wrapping up a massive web cocoon that looked an awful lot like a rhinoceros.

"Take your time," Ranma mumbled, looking bored as he watched his domesticated spiders scuttle among the swarm of identical jungle spiders that had been summoned on his turn. When the two groups had met Ranma thought he was going to see an awesome spider war, but instead his arachnids had just started mingling with the summoned ones, halting their creeping advance. Cammy in particular had been very energetic, scrambling around and over the visitors while waving her legs everywhere. Now he didn't know what was going on, except that everyone else was getting to fight apex predators except him.

Well, him and Kana. She had several birds perched on her arms and shoulders and had been whistling to them constantly as they chirped and hooted back, but at least she was having fun.

"Uhm... Tsukune?" Moka asked, not having moved from the entrance as they stared at the havoc in the lobby.

"Yeah?" he asked, still staring forward.

"Aren't all those animals they're killing endangered?" Moka asked awkwardly.

"It's nice that that's the first thought you have when you walk in on something like this," Tsukune said, smiling as he took Moka's hand and walked into the lobby, "it's good to be home."

Shamelessly showing off how much cooler my characters are than in canon: session complete

Completely forgot about that space jellyfish thing. I hope that turned out okay. - Moka

Chapter End


End file.
